


The Clown's Heir

by BiziBee



Category: Batman (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Nightmares, Past Abortion, Past Child Abuse, Pregnancy, Repressed Memories, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 207,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiziBee/pseuds/BiziBee
Summary: Every kingdom needs a ruler, and every ruler needs an heir. Someone to take over when they are gone. But children had never been in the cards for them, not something that normal. Harley never expected it to happen. After she discovers she's pregnant, however, it soon becomes apparent that she and Joker have more skeletons hidden in the closet then they both thought.





	1. Chapter One

_The clock ticked on the wall, a hollow, empty sounding tick. At this moment, it was the only audible sound in the room, or at least, the only thing the young blonde woman cared to listen to at the moment. Her ears were tuned into that, ignoring the flurry of talking and footsteps going on around her. Though her eyes were focused on a magazine in her lap, she was not reading it. Her eyes only scanned the page, before she turned it.  The expression on her face was blank, and hollow, not interested in the magazine, or any of her surroundings._

_Yet there was a slight, nervous glimmer in her eyes. One that would take a second glance to notice._

_The sound of a door opening and closing was what caused her to look up. A teenage girl was being led down the hallway by a woman in scrubs, the girl looking almost distraught, and to the point of tears. She was trembling, almost, and her talking almost only sounded like blubbering to the woman in the waiting room._

_"I--I--I'm s-sor-sorry." she was saying, as the lady in scrubs continued to lead her down the hall. "I couldn't--I c-I just, saw it, and--"_

_"It's fine, honey. It's fine. Next time just be sure, okay?" Both individuals disappeared behind a corner. The blonde woman had watched them leave, and looked away, biting at her lip. Her expression morphed into that of an uneasy one, yet she maintained some of the emptiness. She looked back down at her magazine, just long enough to hear another door open. She didn't look up this time, at least, until a voice called out._

_"Harleen Quinzel?"_

_Her magazine hit her lap._

_Her eyes darted upwards to see an older woman standing at the edge of the hallway, holding a clipboard. Though she smiled, the younger woman did not return the smile. She instead released a shaky breath. She moved to putting the magazine down on the coffee table in front of her, and released another shaky breath as she got up._

_"That's me."_

_"Right this way, Ms. Quinzel."_

_Her heels clicked against the floor as she followed the woman down the hallway. They passed several doors, paintings, and potted flowers before reaching a room at the end of the hall. The woman opened and allowed Harleen to walk in first._

_"If you'll wait right here, I just have some paperwork I need to get. It won't take long." She gave a nod, and wobbly smile back at the nurse. The door clicked shut, leaving her alone in the small, white room. Her eyes scanned it, before landing on the examination table. Walking over, she ran her hand on the sheet covered it before pushing herself up onto it, then clasped her hands in her lap._

_Not a second later, however, she had moved her hands to her face, covering it as her body shuddered._

_"It's for the best...it's for the best, you have to do this..."_

_Something within her stirred, and she found herself letting one hand drop, and slowly press against her abdomen. An emotion...she felt, an emotion somewhere...guilt, sorrow...she didn't know what. But she pushed it back, pulling her hand back immediately as the door opened and the nurse with the clipboard was coming back in._

**_"I'm sorry..."_ **

_\--_

Harley twirled in front of the mirror, holding the red dress she'd pulled from the closet in front of her. Her expression could almost be matched to that of a kid's in a toy store, and the dress was the new toy that she been waiting all week to finally purchase. Only difference in this case, however, was the fact that she wasn't paying for this dress, whereas that kid would probably have their parents buying them the toy.

It wasn't like she couldn't afford stuff like this, it's just buying things were less fun. Plus, on top of that, she needed something to occupy herself with. This hadn't been the first dress she'd pulled from the nearby closet, as evidenced by the dozens of hangers and crumpled heaps of fabric on the floor and bed.

Said-reason for occupying herself could be explained by the noises coming from the next room over. Several smacks, followed by a grunt, and a short laugh. Following that short laugh was a raspy, almost purring voice, that could be heard taunting whoever the poor individual grunting was.

 Poor individual, so to speak, was just another typical client who had refused to pay up, by the name of Martin Pendergast. He didn't seem like the type who'd be associating with someone like the likes of the Joker, but apparently, he'd thought this was only going to be a one-time transaction.

How wrong he'd been, maybe he should have thought twice. It didn't help the man was a newcomer to Gotham. Maybe he hadn't gotten the memo that the clown prince wasn't someone you wanted on your Facebook friend's list.

What a shame it was, her and Mr. J basically interrupting that man's date night with his wife. Harley had only guessed it was a date night because of the large bouquet of roses the man had with him when he had come into the bedroom to find his wife tied up and knocked out on the bed. Had he not showed up any sooner, worse things might have happened to her. In the past, Joker had been more than okay with getting his point across by harming loved ones to any specific client.

It was a shame, really. They'd been giving the guy at least another five minutes, and if he hadn't showed up, it would have been Harley's job to make sure he had a nice surprise waiting for him when he finally came back. Regardless, the look on his face had still been priceless.

So now the poor man was in the other room getting who knows what done to him, while Harley raided his wife's closet. She would have loved to have been standing in there by her puddin's side, but he'd insisted on settling it privately. Not even her pouting had worked, so she'd decided to find herself an outfit for their own date night in the process.

Probably their first date night since she'd gotten out of Belle Reve, now that she thought about it. She hadn't been counting, and she wasn't sure if she'd count their escapades in the bedroom as an official date night...but it felt good to be walking around freely again, and especially getting to pick her own clothes out. Those prison clothes had been absolutely tacky, though she'd tried to make them work, honestly.

She pursed her lips together, holding the red fabric against her leg. No, no this one wasn't doing it. What was this, the eighteenth dress she'd pulled out? Her gaze went over to the now-conscious woman on the bed, who had been watching in petrified silence.

"Geez, for being rich you sure have a crap taste in clothes, lady." Harley chided her before throwing the dress onto the bed, directly onto the woman to be exact, and moving over to the closet to snoop around some more. A rather loud smack from the next room caused her to look over, but her attention went directly back to the closet, and she gasped in delight, pulling out a cocktail dress with gold sequins.

"So, you do have a good taste in clothes, I'm impressed!" she chirped, looking back at the woman on the bed. "Hey, you don't mind if I uh, borrow this one, do you?"

At first it looked like the woman protested, but because of her gag she only managed to let out a muffled blubber. Harley took this as her answer and just shrugged, throwing the dress over her shoulder. As she headed across to the bathroom to get changed, she stopped by the bedroom door, hesitating. She almost bit on her lip, but instead reached over and knocked.

A sigh sounded outside and a "one moment please" from Joker, before he'd opened the door and peered in at her, scowling.

"What?" he snapped.

His tone made Harley pout, though this was typical.

"Ya don't have to snap at me, puddin'."

"Well it's kinda hard not to snap when you keep being a nag." The last words carried a bit of bitterness in them, and judging by the blood on his clothes, she had evidently interrupted something important. She crossed her arms, pulling the dress into them in the process.

"I'm only being a nag cuz you're takin' so long, aren't you any closer to bein' done?"

Another annoyed sigh emerged from the Joker and he pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning against the door for support. He played a smile on his face however, an annoyed one albeit, and moved his hand down the door.

"I could be closer to being done if you weren't currently interrupting me!" he said, his grill almost grinding upon the remainder of what was his lower jaw. This only caused Harley's pout to grow wider, and she leaned against the door. She said nothing, only giving off a childish whimper. Joker almost rolled his eyes, but moved his hand from the door, grabbing her chin just slightly, cupping it in his hand.

"Look baby, it's not my fault this guy is being a tightwad. Why don't you make yourself look pretty and give Daddy a little more time, yeah?"  he asked, putting a slight pout on his own face, albeit it was probably a fake one to gain sympathy. Harley blew out a sigh, but only to blow back a piece of hair that had fallen into her viewpoint.

"Fine. I wanna raid the jewelry boxes anyways."

Joker grinned back at her and gave her a small pat on the face before shutting the door. Not soon after did his loud voice fill the entire penthouse again as Harley could hear words of panic coming from their friend. She snorted, and spared a teasing glance back at the bound woman on the bed. The woman's gaze was fixated on the door, as she appeared to be nervously listening to what was transpiring.

She jumped at the sound of Joker's loud voice and turned to look at Harley as she pushed open the bathroom door. Had her mouth not been bound, she would have no doubt asked what was going on, though her eyes did most of the asking.

Harley returned the woman's nervous gaze with her own teasing grin, and shrugged. She almost wanted to give a full response, but she figured staying silent might unease the woman even more. And that did seem to be case, as the woman's eyes only became more misty and frightened as she looked back at the door.

Shaking her head, Harley resumed in opening the bathroom door and entered. Her hand searched the cold ceramic that was the wall before she found the light switch, and flipped it on. Soon, the clothes she had been previously wearing hit the floor and she slipped the smooth gold dress over her head. The skirt flounced above her knees, just barely, and she got a glance of herself in the mirror, cracking a smile.

"Oh Harley, you are looking _good_." she complimented herself. She noticed a tube of lipstick on the sink and picked it up, popping the cap off before applying a shade on her own lips. As she put the lipstick down, her hand shook, and she nearly dropped it into the sink instead of sitting it down. Her head spun for a moment, and she gripped at the white ceramic in a panic so she wouldn't fall over.

Taking deep breaths, she looked back up at herself in the mirror, a concerned look overtaking her previous expression of satisfaction. She could have sworn her vision had blurred for a moment, but thankfully it cleared, and she relaxed. Though she tried to convince herself it had just been a minor random spell, this hadn't been the first time this had happened this week.

She hadn't said anything to Joker, especially since she hadn't been out of Belle Reve that long. They had so much to catch up and so much to do, she couldn't afford to not be feeling well. She needed to be at his side in case her influences were a necessity.

Which tonight was obviously not one of those cases.

In the living room, Joker was circling his unfortunate client as the man continued to make excuse after excuse for not having the money on time. He watched the man with a steel expression, clearly not buying any of what the man was saying. He halted in front of him, but did nothing just yet.

The man coughed blood, spitting it out onto the floor before attempting to speak.

"I--I swear, I swear I had the cash. I still have it!" Desperation was strong in his voice. "Just give me another chance, J, I promise I'll drop it off next week--"

But he was cut off, as Joker leaned forward and pressed a finger against the man's lips, making a shushing noise with his own.

"Ah ah, wrong answer. You're supposed to have that money now." He moved his finger, down to where he'd put a nice bruise on the man's jaw, and pressed it, causing him to shift uneasily and squirm in his seat. He turned his finger, now pressing his fingernail into the man's skin.

"Look, Martin, I like you. You're a nice guy." Blood began trickling out. "But tell me how I'm supposed to trust you, when you can't even do the favor of giving me my damn money on time. I don't accept rainchecks, lest you forget I'm not that lenient."

He stepped back, now leaving a nice trail of blood still trickling down the man's face.

"So, how's about you make this easier on yourself and just hand the dough over now, huh? Like a good boy would." He leaned against the coffee table, but was not planning on spending long there. He knew what Martin's answer would be and he was fully prepared to act.

Martin sputtered on the blood again, perturbed by the trickle on his face, and gulped.

"I--I can't. It's not--I mean--I just can't give it to you right now." He shuffled in his binds. "Just give me til next week, please!"

Though he had to admit the man's pleas were amusing, he wasn't in the mood to make bargains tonight. Tonight, was supposed to be a date night for him and his queen, and he hadn't intended on being here so long. He'd hoped this idiot would be a little more in the way of cooperative, but that wasn't proving to be the case.

He sighed, pulling out his gun from where it was currently secured on his coat.

"I'm afraid that's not an option, sonny." he growled. His eyes darted about the small penthouse for a moment, before he chuckled and looked back at the nervous man.

"Now, I think your apartment looks a bit tacky. Let's spruce it up a bit, shall we?"

Poor Martin didn't even get a chance to plea again, as the gun then went off. The bullet straight through his head, blood splattering all over the white carpet beneath him. Harley walked out just in time to have a small drop of blood hit her foot, this only emitted a tiny gasp from her. Sure, any normal person might have fainted at such a sight, but lest one would forget, _this_ in its own was perfectly normal for them.

She looked back at up at Joker.

"I'm takin' it he didn't have the money, then?" she inquired.

Joker lowered his gun, huffing a bit.

"Oh, he had it, he was just being a selfish little bitch." He put the gun away, back in the confides of his coat. His eyes fixated on Harley, who had taken to adjusting a golden hoop earring on her left ear. Her reflection in the mirror, showing off the face he'd had to live without for several months. While most people would say they didn't mean to stare, he fully meant it.

Intentionally, perhaps, a purr rose in his throat and he tilted his head back, his eyes scanning his queen in entirety. It'd been about a month since she'd been back, but part of him kept wondering if maybe this was all just a dream, and he'd lost the last bit of solidity that was still intact in his mind.

Harley was putting on the other earring now, taking a minute to pull her hair back out of the way. His hands gripped into fists, his nails digging into his palms deep enough to draw blood. Mild pain seared in his palms, blood dripping out between his fingers.

Pain was the only way he could tell this wasn't a dream, aside from other things. But he had to reassure himself.

"Puddin'?"

Her voice brought him back from the trance he had suddenly found himself in. Harley had caught his gaze in the mirror, and was now looking back at him with an inquisitive expression. She gave a small smirk, raising an eyebrow.

"What? See somethin' ya like?" Her voice came off as teasing, but he gave no response. His gaze seemed so fixated, she almost became alarmed. The smirk disappeared and she walked over to him, her heels clicking against the floor. She stopped in front of him, reaching out tentatively to touch his face.

"What's eatin' ya, puddin'?"

Their eyes met, and he could see the concern in hers. His face remained sullen, as he reached up and placed his hand on her face, back towards her neck. Pulling her closer to him, until he could smell her scent. He was almost tempted to bury his face in her hair, to just savor the moment as it was, but found as he thought this, that he was already doing so. Despite the dead body behind them, it was almost textbook romantic scene what with the two of them with their heads pressed together.

"Don't leave me..." Harley moved her head back from where she'd leaned it against his, looking surprised at the words he'd just moaned. She searched his face, though his eyes were closed, and he leaned forward again, grabbing her by the waist. He gripped, tightly, and Harley bit her lip, reaching up now with both her hands to grab his face, and turn it to look up at her. His eyelids slowly opened, and looked down at her face.

"Don't let yourself get caught again, Harls...don't leave me. I just couldn't..." His voice was so low it was almost weird, even for him. He ducked his head. "I couldn't bear it."

Harley felt a pang of sorrow in her chest. The fourth time...the fourth time, he'd done that today. How many times he'd done that since she'd gotten back. He hadn't dared show this kind of emotion in front of the henchman, let alone Frost of all people. It was only when they were alone...or semi alone, counting the dead body of Martin Pendergast.

Squeezing his face with both her hands, which still cupped it despite his head being lowered, she leaned in and moved her arms across his shoulders. Tentatively, she whispered in his ear.

"I'm here, Mistah J. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

His hand moved to her back, up from the sequin-covered fabric of her dress to the bare skin of her back. He massaged it briefly before moving his hand back down, Harley jumping as she realized he was attempting to unzip her dress from the back. At this rate, he was all but nuzzling her like a baby cub, and though she had to admit it was cute, now was hardly the time to be partaking in these antics.

"Puddin'--" She giggled, pushing him back to her best ability. His hands almost pawed her like a cat but she managed to pry him off her, before readjusting her dress. He stepped back, blinking wildly like he'd once again gotten out of a trance, then pouted.

"Damnit, Harley. Damn you for coming in here like that." he grunted, smoothing his hair back into place. Not that it had been, but it was an action out of paranoia.  Harley gave a fake gasp of hurt as she looked back at him, having turned around briefly. But she didn't say anything, and only giggled at him. A high pitched little giggle, that she knew for a fact would always make him smile.

And it worked. Despite Joker rolling his eyes at her, she could see a smile twitching at his lips. He proceeded to walk over to where Martin's corpse was slumped, and knelt, rummaging through the man's pockets before standing up and clucking his tongue.

"Looks like his little spat about having the money on him was a fib, hm." He placed both hands on his knees, groaning a bit as he stood back up. He observed the man's corpse a moment more, tapping his chin in contemplation. His eyes moved to the bedroom door, then back the corpse. He grinned.

"Harley?"

"Yeah?" She'd moved back to the mirror to apply more lipstick.

"I don't wanna leave this place empty handed, how about you?" Joker reached back into his coat, pulling his gun out. He twirled it about in his hand momentarily before speaking again. "How's about you pay this gentleman's grieving widow a visit and see if you can't...bargain with her?"

The grin on his face was soon matched by Harley's as she turned to face him.

\--

The noise of the gunshot had filled the entire penthouse.

Evelyn Pendergast, the wife of the corpse now bleeding out in the living room, laid on the queen-sized bed that she and her husband once shared. Only, she knew, after hearing that gunshot ring out, that they wouldn't be sharing it anymore.

The bedroom door opened, slowly, and she looked over to see Harley entering. A devious smile was on her painted lips, as she slipped in, looking as if she were hiding something behind her back. Tauntingly, she walked over, looking over the woman's terrified form scrunching back on the bed. Upon approaching, she pulled out the object from behind her.

A gun.

Instantly, Evelyn's eyes widened and she shrieked underneath her gag, scooting back even further. To further perturb her, Harley jumped onto the bed, sitting up on her knees, and aiming the gun right at the woman's head. Same spot as her husband.

"You heard that gunshot out there?" Evelyn nodded, though fearfully. Harley tipped her head.

"Well, now you just found out what happens when Mistah J doesn't get what he wants. " She pulled her finger against the trigger. "And he's gonna be veerryyy mad if he doesn't get what he wants tonight. So, if you don't wanna have your brains blasted against the wall like a Jackson Pollack painting--"

Harley slid down on the bed, onto her stomach, but before doing this, had pressed the barrel of the gun to the woman's forehead, who by now had closed her eyes and had tears streaming down her face.

"I suggest you cooperate. Would you be willin' to do that for me?"

Evelyn's eyes popped open, suddenly full of desperation, and she nodded quickly, her entire body almost trembling at this rate. Harley's smile moved to one side of her face, and she lowered the gun. Sitting up, she reached and pulled the gag out of the woman's mouth. She gave a long gasp of air, almost choking in the process. She looked at Harley with a shaky expression, but this stirred no sympathy within her.

"Please...I didn't know about the money, if I had--" Almost instantly, the woman had started to beg, but Harley only groaned and shook the gun in her face, causing her to shut up and fall back.

"Save it, bitch. Do I have to go get Mistah J or are you gonna tell me what I wanna hear?" she snarled. Evelyn only nodded. Almost instantly, Harley's smile was back and she slid off the bed, though kept the gun pointed at her.

"Atta girl! That wasn't so hard, was it?" she chirped. "Now..."

"The money. You know that's what we're here for, where is it?"

But Evelyn didn't answer right away, she bit her lip and looked down, as if thinking on the manner. Harley waited, keeping the gun aimed at her just in case she needed to do anything drastic. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, and she only said that because she didn't want any blood getting on her new dress.

"Well? I don't have all night, I'm supposed to be on a date right now!"  she snapped.

"I know, I'm sorry--just--" Evelyn lowered her head, her voice breaking as she choked on tears. "I'm sorry, please, I need a moment..."

"You can have your moment after you tell me, now spill the beans." Harley put a hand on her hip, impatiently. "What, you're cryin' over your husband? Oh boohoo, if he wanted to live that badly he wouldn't have been so stingy. If ya ask me, it was his own fault."

After that remark, Evelyn looked like she all but wanted to pounce on Harley, but the restraints were either fortunately or unfortunately keeping her from doing so. She looked down, taking a deep breath, probably to calm herself. She looked back up.

"The money--it's um, it's in a safe, behind a family portrait on the wall." she said shakily. "The combination is 5693."

At this, Harley put her gun down, but quickly put it back up.

"And if you're lyin'?"

"You're just gonna have to trust me. Please." Evelyn looked at Harley with sad, desperate eyes. "That's where I saw him putting it, h-he said--said it was for emergencies. I didn't know what it was really for."

Honesty. Harley could detect honesty in her voice. Maybe it was because she'd been a psychiatrist in her previous years, but she was able to tell if someone was lying or not. Being around Mistah J had helped that ability to an extent, and it worked. It especially worked when a crooked businessman was trying to sell phony weapons, and in turn ended up getting his head blown off.

So, this time, Harley lowered her gun for real. She gave a satisfied smirk and stuffed the gun in the purse she had snatched up from the small table underneath the mirror in the living room.

"Well, we're just gonna have to wait and see, aren't we?" she chirped merrily.

Assuming the deal was done, Harley turned on her heel and began to walk back to the living room where her puddin' was still waiting. He'd be happy that she got the job done, he always was. Not once...well, maybe at least once, she'd messed up, but at least she wouldn't end up like the henchman...hopefully.

As her hand grabbed the doorknob to leave, she halted at hearing a short sentence being uttered behind her.

"Fuck you, bitch..."

Almost immediately she whirled around, facing Evelyn with a shocked expression.

"What did you just say to me?"

Now Evelyn was looking up at her with a stone expression, an emotionless one. She held her head up, staring back at the queen of Gotham in defiance.

"You heard me, I don't think I have to repeat myself." she said in a low voice. "Go, get your damn money. Go make out with your boyfriend, I don't care. I just hope you two know you're responsible for ruining my life."

"Wouldn't be the first time someone's said that to us." Harley nonchalantly shrugged, but was taken aback as Evelyn's expression and tone shifted from blank to furious. Her eyebrows bent and her nostrils seemed to be flaring.

"No, fuck you! You literally ruined my life!" she yelled. "My husband is dead because of your boyfriend, and that's probably our life savings in that safe. You don't get to--to..."

Her voice broke down, and sobs began to escape her throat.

"God...oh god..."

Harley could only stand in silence. She wanted to say something, to defend Joker and yell back, but somehow, she didn't feel the strongest urge to. She only watched as Evelyn began to bitterly cry, her face now stained with tears. Another loud sob escaped her throat, as she threw her head back. Harley watched her, then her eyes darted to the alarm clock to see the time. 9:50.

With this situation going nowhere, she decided to make an attempt to leave again, but it was the next words that made her freeze once again.

"Go...d...my baby's never gonna know her father...she's never g-gonna know him, thanks to you." The words came out as muffled sobs, but she could still make it out. Her mood completely shifting, she slowly turned around, looking seriously at the grieving woman.

"You're...you're pregnant?" she half-whispered.

Evelyn looked, and nodded. Had her hand been free, she would have had moved it to her stomach by now.

"I was gonna tell him the moment he got home. This was supposed to be a special night..." she sobbed. "If it turns out that the money's not in the safe...just go ahead and shoot me. Please. At least then we'll be reunited."

Harley stared, blinking. Her mind flashed back to earlier when they'd first showed up, and the desperation Mrs. Pendergast had shown off when they confronted her. She'd grabbed at her stomach then...it made sense, now.

In the depths of her mind, somewhere, she suddenly found an old, buried memory resurfacing. One that she'd tried so hard to etch out of her mind, and one that she had not dared speak about to anyone. Her mind swam, and suddenly, she was nineteen years old again...

_"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Ms. Quinzel?" The doctor spoke with a tone of seriousness which made one wonder if this wasn't the first time he'd given this speech. He stood across from her, as she sat across from him on the examination table, her head bowed, her eyes fixated on the cold floor. She said nothing, allowing the doctor to sigh and continue speaking._

_"You know...I've had girls, in the past who--who uh, have backed last minute...I just wanna make sure."_

_She looked up, her expression blank._

_"I'm sure." she said, in a voice so hollow she wasn't sure it was her own. Her hands remained folded in her lap, despite the fact she was shaking violently. The doctor noticed this, but didn't remark on it. He only sighed again, then nodded._

_"Alright, well, if you're very sure...I'll go have a room prepped. I'll have a nurse show you back when it's time, okay?"_

_She only nodded._

_In a second, the doctor had left the room, leaving young Harleen alone in the cold, white room. The clock ticked on the wall, making the silence even more unbearable and painful. She lifted a shaking hand to her abdomen, releasing a shaky breath of air as she pressed against it._

**_"It's for the best."_ **

"Harley?!"

Joker's voice shook her from her thoughts. She shook herself, before, for the third time, attempting to leave the room. The previous memory still floated in her head, still wavered. But she had to push it back now...push it back...get rid of it. She didn't want it there, it couldn't be there anymore.

Her feet halted. She stopped. Deep breath...in and out....in and out...flush the mind...

In seconds, she felt calmed. The memory, and any bit of it, had transited for now.

"You didn't run into any...trouble in there, did you?" J's voice cracked through the door as she opened it, and she managed a feeble smile.

"No, puddin'. Everything went just fine." Her heels clicked as she exited the room, not even sparing Evelyn Pendergast another glance.


	2. Chapter Two

It was an unusually quiet night in Gotham for once, either that or Harley had elected to not paying attention to any bustle that might be occurring. Even the roar of the engine sounded dull to her, as she instead stared right through the window, through the city. She didn't know what she was looking at, but her thoughts were too much in a cluster to care. Maybe the reason she couldn't hear much was because her thoughts were the louder ones.

It wasn't hard to tell that it was night, yet the city seemed more alive than it ever did in the daytime. More people lined the streets and every building for every side of the street was lit up like a Christmas tree. Harley let her head fall against the cold window, releasing a sigh that fogged the glass. It was hard to pinpoint why, exactly, but she thought she'd feel better after finally leaving that penthouse.

For some reason, she wasn't.

Maybe she would have been fine had she not opted to hang around in the room longer to find out that one of their intended targets was pregnant, and they'd just robbed a child of her parent.

In the past, she'd never thought if any of Joker's clients might have had kids...and that made her think.

Just how many kids had they orphaned? Not that she cared or anything. To heck with kids having parents, she never had a good set of 'em anyways, what with an alcoholic mother and a father who performed petty crimes instead of making an honest living. Ones who turned their back while her brother verbally abused her and beat her up in the other room. Ones that kicked out her older sister for getting pregnant at the age of sixteen, and basically treated Harley like the throwaway child they didn't want.

No, she envied kids who had had good parents. It was cruel to be that way, yes, but how could she feel any happiness when looking at happy families? All she felt was pain, and thus had kept this thought intact in her mind anytime the idea of any clients or innocent bystanders having families had crept into her mind during any kind of heist. The thought always came, and by the time a heist or job had been completed, the thoughts had left.

So why were they being so stubborn this time? _Why were they still here?_

They'd left the penthouse about ten minutes ago, and six minutes ago, the chatter they'd partook in had ceased, as that was when Harley had gone silent. Joker had primarily focused on his driving, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds out of paranoia just to make doubly sure their old pal in the bat suit hadn't decided to start following them. He'd find the mess they made soon enough, hopefully, not until after date night was finished. Lord knows he didn't want a repeat of that other particular date night.

But, by now, he would have expected Harley to be chattering about something again, as she always did. She never seemed to shut up since she'd been out of Belle Reve, maybe it was out of excitement, maybe she just missed window shopping and pointing out things she wanted. He'd expected that, not the deafening silence that filled the car instead.

His eyes shifted towards her, before returning to the road.

"You're being too quiet over there...I don't like it." he remarked.

"Huh?" Harley lifted her head from the window, looking over at him. She gave a nervous chuckle and shrugged halfly, sliding back into place on her seat. "Oh...yeah, I um...I was just thinking."

"About what, exactly?"

"About..." She started, but her voice trailed off. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to bring up the subject of parents or kids around Mistah J. She didn't know why, but she supposed it was because of some past things he'd told her when he was her patient...she didn't remember much, but she remembered he'd never reacted fondly to any questions she'd asked him regarding family.

She doubted he cared what she had to say about earlier.

"About, um, the money." _Nice save, Harley._

He eyed her again, not before rolling his tongue over his lips.

"Mm, what about it? We've got it, there's nothing else to be said."

"Yeah, but what did we need it for exactly?" Harley pointed out, realizing that she might actually have a point to distract her mind from earlier thoughts. "It's not like we pay for half our shit, anyways."

"Ah, now that's true..." Joker turned a sharp left corner, narrowly missing hitting a fire hydrant. The tires screeched enough to startle a flock of pigeons from their spot near the sewer drain. "But, if you'll remember something I first told you, the money is merely a test. If these idiots are naive enough to think I want to work with them and can get me what I ask, then I know that there's a chance they're trustworthy..."

Another sharp turn. Harley gave a tiny shriek, gripping onto the car door handle and her stomach simultaneously with both hands. She felt her stomach lurch and inhaled deeply.

"But, if they fail to owe up, and I have to retrieve what I want myself, well..." Joker paused, then chuckled deeply. "Well, you saw what happened. You've seen it more than once, cupcake."

"Enough times to remember, puddin'." Her hand moved from her stomach to her side, curling up beside her leg on the seat. "So what are we actually gonna do with the cash then? Pay for dinner with it or somethin'?"

His face in the rearview mirror looked astonished for a moment before he laughed.

"What? Hell no, I'm not about to pay for a half-cooked steak. Remember the last time?"

She did. One date night before she'd gotten locked up, she remembered they'd stopped at this fancy place to eat, even had the whole place cleared out just for themselves. Things had been going just dandy until their food arrived...yeah, sure, no one liked finding hair in their food, but to serve that to the royals of Gotham and think it was okay was unacceptable.

It was her turn to laugh as the memory replayed in her mind. A memory she didn't mind remembering, unlike earlier. At least this one made her happy.

"Of course, puddin', just like it was yesterday!" she said. "Man, I wonder if they got that wine stain out of the ground yet. What was that wine we ordered...huh...Merlot, right?"

"Hm, nah. I think it was more of a... Blood Wine."

"Ah, that's right. Makes sense as to why I couldn't tell what stains were blood and what was actually the wine."

The car was shortly filled with a harsh, loud laughter, coming both from Harley and Joker. Any negative thoughts in Harley's mind had subsided no thanks to that conversation, but as the car lurched down another street again, her stomach hurled in on her and she felt a bubble of nausea come up her throat. Her laughing stopped, and she gripped at the door handle again.

Joker was still laughing, apparently having found their conversation hysterical. He stopped however, as soon as he realized Harley had gone quiet again, and looked at her with concern, upon noticing how much paler she suddenly looked.

"Harls? You okay?" he asked, in a tone almost foreign for him.

She didn't look at him, and instead clutched at her stomach. Her lips were tightly pressed together and she took in a shaky breath. Suddenly, she looked up and covered her mouth, gagging at the taste of puke coming up into her mouth. She breathed in quickly, trying to force it back down, but it was apparent it wasn't going to wait.

"Puddin', pull over--"

"What? Why--"

"Just--fucking pull over, damn it!"

The car came to a screeching halt, almost conveniently next to a street waste bin. The car door on Harley's side and she all but bolted out, staggering over to the bin and wretching violently. Whatever trash had been in that bin previously was overtaken by a spew of yellow vomit, as Harley gripped the sides of the can tightly, her knuckles turning whiter than they already were in the process.

When she thought she'd finished, she started to finally sit back up, but her stomach turned over on her again and she ducked face first back into the can. Joker watched her bent-up form from the car, looking rather concerned yet unamused, his hand remained on the steering wheel. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, looking out the other side of the car, but Harley's wretching still intruded his hearing. Annoyed, he sighed and looked back to where she was.

"Are you quite finished over there?" he called.

Keeping her hands placed on the trash to steady herself, Harley shakily pushed herself back up, wiping the remaining bile from her mouth. She gave a small nod.

"Yeah--yeah, just gimme a sec--"

She panicked as another nausea hit her, and she ducked back down quickly, but nothing came out this time. Almost out of relief, she sighed and stood back up, turning to head back to the car. As she slid back and shut the door, Joker was still eyeing her with something that could be described as curious anger. She didn't notice until she'd straightened and smoothed her hair back out, and shuffled her eyes over at him.

"What?" she asked.

He said nothing, at first. Instead, he looked away and turned the key into the ignition, starting the car back up again. The engine began to whir, and as Harley smoothed the ruffles in her dress out, Joker placed his hands on the steering wheel, but he didn't turn it just yet. He just sat there, like he was waiting for something. Now it was Harley's turn to take notice of his silence. Nervously, she bit her lip, but didn't dare look at him.

There was a good chance that the fact she hadn't been feeling well just slipped out. Literally. And he wasn't happy about it.

Normally, they were an open book to each other. They'd told each other just about anything, and never lied. But this time, it'd only been for his own good. She just didn't want him worrying about her, considering she'd only just gotten out of prison recently. He'd already acted like a mother hen enough as it was, and she didn't want to be a burden. She never wanted to be a burden, being a burden was not acceptable in their lifestyle.

Soon, after what seemed like an eternity, the car moved and began driving down the road, though more slowly than before. Joker continued to keep quiet, like the childish individual he was, and Harley sat beside him with a nervous expression. She gripped at her dress, biting at her lip again, and heavily sighed. The tension she felt right now was aggravating and she couldn't stand there being a rift between them, especially over something like this.

When they were halfway down the road, she finally turned to her side and attempted to speak.

"Okay, I'm sorry! Is that what ya wanted to hear?" she demanded. "I just didn't wanna throw up in your damn car, that's all."

"Forget about that." His voice wasn't cold, but it still sounded upset. "I just want to know how long you've been hiding the fact that you've been sick. Huh? How long?"

He spared her a glance, not before swerving to avoid a pothole. Harley's face fell and she hesitated, turning forward in her seat again. A heavy moment of silence passed between them. She sighed.

"Not...not that long, really. Just about a week now."

"And why did you delay in informing me about this?"

Oh, great. Now he was sounding accusing.

That wasn't helping her any.

"I..." She shook her head, placing her arm next to the window. Now wasn't the time to not find her voice, but she couldn't find any excuse, because any excuse she had would sound typical. Because she didn't want to be a burden, because she didn't want to worry him, she was sure she'd told him these reasons before for _something._

So instead, she shrugged. This wasn't the answer he'd clearly wanted, as she heard a groan emit from him, accompanied by a scowl.

"You don't have to hide these things from me, Harls, damnit." he muttered. "I wouldn't have made you come out tonight if I knew you weren't feeling well."

This caused her eyebrows to furrow and she gave a surprised glance his way.

"Really?"

"Of course not! With you sick, that means you're out of focus." Joker gripped the steering wheel a little tightly as he turned it. "That could put you at risk if we were in the middle of a heist. I don't want you running around out here til you're better, got it?"

"But puddin', I'm really not feeling that bad--"

"Don't question me!" he snapped, causing Harley to jump. She shrunk back in her seat. "You're staying' in bed til you get better, I don't want you throwing up in the street again. In fact, I'm going to leave someone to keep an eye on you just to make damn sure."

"So basically, you're leavin' me with a babysitter? While you go out there and have all the fun? Huh, yeah. Not happening'." Harley huffed and slid down, folding her arms. "You're overreacting, all I did was throw up. Big whoop."

"It _is_ a big whoop, Harley, I'm not taking any risks with you." They pulled to a stop in front of a fancily-lighted building, where other cars were parked. Harley started to open the door and get out, but Joker grabbed by the arm tightly and she gasped, stopping short and looking at him. He was staring back at her, with intensity, and a fierceness that she had not seen in a long time.  His face went down, though his eyes stayed fixed on her directly.

"Not after Belle Reve. No more risks." he stated clearly. "You're valuable to me, Harls. You're my doll to break, not theirs, not anyone else's."

Both their gazes were fixed on each other now, intently. Though, Harley had to admit his grip was starting to hurt.

"Now, when we get home...you're going straight to bed. And I don't want to hear any more about it, you got that?"

Now, she couldn't tell if that was concern or just him being bossy, but despite all that, she found herself nodding. It might be nice getting to sleep in the morning, maybe he did have a point. But there was no way in heck she was staying in bed the entire time she was sick, if she even was sick. It'd probably just been from all the car lurching. Though she didn't want to, she really didn't want to...she just nodded.

"Yes sir."

His caps appeared as he smiled, then he released her by arm.

"That's my girl. How's about we get something to eat now, hm?"

Again, Harley nodded, and found herself smiling back.

She turned to get out of the car again, but Joker had already gotten out before her and appeared on her side, offering his hand to her. She still smiled back at him and took it, stepping out of the car. The two paraded up to the steps of the building together like they owned the place, then up the steps, and to the building. Joker reached to open the door to let Harley walk in before him.

"I haven't been here before, have we been here before?' she remarked as they went in.

"Oh, no, not yet. They actually just opened." The door closed behind them. " But I hear their lamb salad is to _die_ for."

\--

The sunlight pouring in through the cracks between the curtains stabbed at Harley's eyes, causing her to moan and throw a pillow over her head. She turned to her side and looked at the clock on the bedside table next to her. The time said 11:14, but there was no way she wanted to get up right now. The empty spot on the other side of the bed said Mistah J had already gotten up ages ago, apparently not having even bothered to wake her up to say goodbye.

Now that she looked back on it, maybe it _had_ been a good idea she stay in bed.

It'd been over two weeks since the vomit incident, and it was suffice to say Harley's assumption about it having merely been the lurching of the car was incorrect. The dizzy spells were becoming more frequent, and she found herself at the toilet every morning, emptying the contents of any breakfast she'd tried to eat.

Which, had been next to nothing thanks to her nausea. The only thing she could keep down was dry toast and fruit. Anything else that a scent with it made her feel even sicker.

Nights were spent tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, which was impossible with how much her body was aching. Not even the fluffiest bunch of pillows seemed to help, she'd even been brave enough to steal some from Joker's side of the bed. Needless to say, he hadn't been happy when he'd tried to casually slip into bed one evening and was met with nothing but the mattress. Harley had tried to apologize, really, but it was getting to where she was too tired to even move from bed, or talk, even.

At first, she had begun to think it was just her monthly cycle. Just because she was loonier than a cuckoo now didn't mean she wasn't keeping track; but there was no blood. No cramping. Just the nausea, the exhaustion, and the appetite shifts.

That was when she realized she hadn't had her period yet that month.

The thought had not hit her until she was attempting to eat some kind of ramen noodle dish that a henchman had bought at her request. Not even because of the noodles, but because it was just a random thought. Naturally, it had alarmed her.

This had been last night.

And she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

It was just like when she couldn't stop thinking about Evelyn Pendergast. Couldn't stop thinking about her, or her baby, the baby who wouldn't get to know it's dad. Now only the thoughts of her late period filled her mind, and while she didn't mind that etching away the other thoughts in her mind, it also frustrated her to no end.

In the back of her mind, she could vaguely remember visiting her pregnant aunt a long time back, back when Harley couldn't have been any older than eight. They'd been eating Thanksgiving dinner when her aunt had excused herself from the table to go throw up in the bathroom. She remembered the woman had complained about a metallic taste in her mouth, and that she'd never be able to taste turkey the same way anymore.

And the reason she remembered that now, was because anything she threw up tasted metallic if she hadn't eaten.

That was one sign. Next to the late period.

If it weren't for those things, she'd think it was just a stomach bug.

But she had to tell herself it was too soon to jump to conclusions. Her mom had been this way once and it turned out to be a false alarm. Which proved to be a mercy considering how much that woman liked to kiss up to a beer bottle.

Harley rolled over on the end, blowing out an exasperated sigh. She was bored. _God, was she so bored of being in bed._ It was giving her too much time to think, she hadn't been able to sleep because of her thoughts, and she couldn't even relax now because of them. Her stomach had ceased doing flip flops, there was a chance it'd be safer to get up now.

So slowly, she sat up, and pulled herself out of bed. Disoriented, she stumbled across the room, dressed in nothing but an oversized Guns N' Roses shirt. She crashed against the dresser, and looked up at herself in the mirror placed above it. Her face contorted almost immediately at the sight of her disarrayed hair and lack of makeup. Dark bags hung heavily under her eyes as if they were clinging on for dear life.

"Gooood, I look like shit." she muttered.

Shaking her head, and scratching at it, she then opened the drawer and fumbled through it before pulling out a pair of black shorts and a white crop top that said, "Queen Bee" on it. Draping these things over her arm, she stumbled across the room to the other side, where the bathroom was. She nearly passed a vase of flowers and stumbled backwards, quickly noticing the card attached.

It didn't take long for her to recognize Joker's handwriting, and she smiled, setting the card back down and brushing the petals of one of the flowers. How sweet, had he left these here before she'd gotten up or had they been here longer? She'd been so out of it the past weeks, she had no idea.

She took a moment to inhale the sweet scent coming from the plant, which thankfully didn't make her nauseous this time. Then resuming her trip to the bathroom, she dropped the clothes on the counter and turned on the shower. The t-shirt hit the ground in a heap and she stepped it, feeling utter joy as the warm water overtook her. For five minutes, she scrubbed at her greasy hair, then her body, then spent another ten just standing underneath the water spout, letting the water fall down her naked body like a stream.

It was a relaxing feeling she wasn't accustomed to daily.

When she exited the bathroom, fully clothed and wet hair pulled into pigtails, she left the bedroom and looked around the penthouse living room. It was strangely empty, and she didn't like it. It was a little eerie, she had to admit, so she walked out quickly and across to the kitchen, where she found a lone henchman sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. He noticed her entering and looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading.

"Oh, good morning, Miss Quinn. It's nice to see you up." he said politely, smiling at her.

She returned the smile and nodded back.

"Good to be up, Tim." she said.  She headed over to the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk. Opening it, she poured into a glass sitting on the counter, and eyed Tim. Quietly, she took a sip of her drink, then swallowed, then setting the glass back down and leaning against the counter.

"So... where is everyone, if you don't mind me asking?" she asked, with a hint of innocence hoping Tim might be inclined to give her some details. He'd have to, working for Joker essentially meant having to respect his queen. He couldn't refuse an answer, could he?

Thankfully, he just cleared his throat before taking another sip of his coffee and flipping the page of his newspaper.

"Um..." He shuffled through the pages. "They didn't say, I only showed up right as they were leaving. Some kind of business to take care of, downtown, I think."

Well that seemed like an honest enough answer.

Harley took another sip of her milk.

"Business, huh?"

"Yup. Say, uh..." Tim set his mug down, turning around in his chair. "Mister J said I was supposed to ask if you needed anything when you got up...so..."

He shrugged awkwardly.

"You need anything?"

Harley pursed her lips to the side, in thought. Slowly, she shook her head.

"Nothin' I can think of right now. I'll let ya know though."

"Right, gotcha."

Tim went straight back to drinking his coffee. Harley almost took another sip of her own drink, but instead put the glass back down and instead began searching through the cabinets. She gasped in delight at finding a box of crackers and pulled it down, picking up her glass and heading into the living room. Her hand reached down and grabbed the TV remote, then she pressed the buttons to turn the television on as she plunked down on the plush sofa, already munching on a cracker. The screen flicked on to show a smartly dressed woman addressing the camera, her hair pulled back into a professional hairstyle.

"It has been a week since police showed up at the penthouse of businessman Martin Pendergast after neighbors reported hearing gunshots from the man's home at approximately 9:30 on Monday night last week." she was saying. "Officers showed up on scene to find the man's corpse in the living room and his wife, bound and gagged in the bed room."

Lovely. Wouldn't you know the first station she had to turn to was a news one.

And of course, they were reporting her and Joker's little escapade from the previous week. It was normality in Gotham; reporters were bound to harp on any of their escapades for weeks on end until they had something else to talk about.

Well, this should be entertaining. She picked up another cracker, biting off half of it as the reporter to continued to talk.

"Thankfully, Mrs. Pendergast was unharmed, but it seems the emotional damage done to her was more than she could handle. She was finally able to be reached for comment today, and when asked for comment, this is all she had to say;"

The television scene changed to in front of the apartment building, where a shook-up, red faced Evelyn stood with a group of officers behind her. Harley felt her stomach drop, and she stopped munching.

"All I have to say," Evelyn said. "Is that I hope the sick bastards responsible for this rot in hell. They killed my husband, the father of my baby. Over some crap money. Yes, you know who you are. You're probably watching this right now, aren't you?"

Her eyes were staring right at the camera. Harley felt her stomach drop even more, and the crumbs she swallowed felt hard going down her throat. She looked down quickly, but Evelyn's voice continued.

"Both of you, both of you are depraved psychopaths. You don't understand what family means, do you? All you care about is murdering innocent people and getting what you want. Especially you, Harley Quinn."

Harley's stomach was churning again and she felt like she might throw up, though she did look up the minute her name was mentioned. Evelyn's gaze was almost paralyzing, but she continued watching. That was not enough to shake her, not the queen, not the harlequin of Gotham. It would take more than just fancy words to--

"You just willingly follow your precious Joker around like he's your world. Well guess what?" --upset her. "My husband, and my child were my whole world. Now I've only got one of them left, no thanks you and your beau."

The camera was zooming in on the woman's face. She looked angry, but tears were in her eyes.

"Try...Try putting yourself in my shoes, and I guarantee you wouldn't like it. I bet if you had a kid of your own...heh, you still wouldn't understand."

That was enough. Harley sucked in her breath and picked up the remote, but before she even had a chance to turn the channel, her hand began shaking violently and she jumped up, knocking her milk to the floor, dropping her crackers, but she didn't care. She needed to get out of there. Get out, get out, get out...out...

Her feet pounded loudly against the floor as she fled into the bedroom, then to the bathroom. She dropped down to the toilet, opening the lid for fear she would throw up again. But there was nothing. Nothing. Despite that, she didn't move. She stayed crumpled there, shaking, her lower lip trembling.

What had that woman said that got her acting that way? Was it the way she insulted her puddin'? Or had it been...mentioning...if she had a kid...

Her hand moved to her stomach, but almost immediately flew away. She smacked it, unintentionally, as if to scold herself, and let out a gasp from her choked throat. Tears wanted to escape but she wouldn't let them.

She wasn't pregnant. She wasn't. She was just sick, she wasn't pregnant.

People like her and Joker couldn't have kids. They just couldn't. What that woman had said...meant nothing to her. She wouldn't cry over this. She refused.

Somewhere in her mind...another dark memory resurfaced...

_Her hands trembling, as she held the small white stick in her hands. It was 12:00, she was supposed to be at a class right now, but all she could do was sit here in a bathroom stall, while some other girls stood outside chattering about who knows what. All she could was sit...sit, and stare...at that white stick...and the pink line..._

_A single tear found itself trickling down her cheek, splashing onto her pants._

**_No._ **

_Her body trembled. The stick in her hands shook._

  1. **_NO. NO._**



_The stick hit the floor with a clack. On the inside, she screamed, screamed so loud she couldn't even hear the girls chattering anymore. She ran her hands through her hair, more tears. Bitter tears. Pain in her chest, all over her._

**_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO_ **

"NO NO NO! GET OUT!" Harley herself was screaming now, grabbing her head and throwing herself against the toilet seat, squeezing her eyes shut. "Get out of my damn head! Leave me alone! GET OUT!"

This had been enough to send Tim running to the bathroom, and he flung the door open to find Harley collapsed against the toilet seat, her face beat red as she screamed and cried. It probably wasn't his place to comfort her, or let alone touch her, but he didn't think leaving her in her hallucination was a good idea. Though, he stayed by the doorframe, afraid to enter in case she lashed out.

"Miss Quinn?" At first, he spoke quietly, then rose his voice a little louder.  "Miss Quinn! Are you okay?"

This caused her to open her eyes, and she gasped, looked over to see Tim standing there. This caused her to flush in embarrassment, and she quietly brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear, going quiet.

"I-I'm fine...I'm fine, I'm okay, sorry." She offered him a weak smile, that she wasn't sure if he was buying or not. She took a deep breath, and looked over to where he was still standing. Her smile weakened even more and she winced.

"Don't tell Mistah J you saw me like this, promise?" she asked. "He's been a mother hen enough as it is, I don't want him worryin' anymore about me than he is."

"Of course, Miss Quinn. This never happened."

"Thank you, Tim..." He turned to leave, and Harley started to push herself off the floor. Nagging voices returned in her mind, causing her to hault...

_But what if this could be a repeat of last time, Harley?_

_What if it's happening again?_

She bit down on her lower jaw, tempted to scream back again. But she didn't, for she knew it would not get of them. She only stayed in that same position momentarily, then looked up.

"Tim?"

Apparently, he'd not gone that far, and came walking back as quickly as possible. He cracked the door open and peered in.

"Yeah, Miss Quinn? Need something?"

"Yes, actually." She stood up, smiling at him again. Shakily, not weakly this time. "I need you to run down to the drugstore...there's a little somethin' I need to find out."


	3. Chapter 3

_"What's his name?"_

_"Well that's just it, he won't tell anyone. He just says to call him...J, or something, I think. If that's any clue."_

_"And he's been like this all day?"_

_The voices poured in and out of the boy's ears, as he remained in the same position he'd been in for the past several hours. He hugged his knees to his chest, rocking in a repeated manner, his head shaking. Brown hair marred his vision, though his eyes did seem quite fixated on the wall in front of him._

_A sane person might question what he was looking at._

_But the fact was, he wasn't looking at anything._

_Just a cracked, empty wall. No pictures, no paintings, nothing._

_Just blankness._

_His eyes twitched, his lips twitched._

_One of the adults talking outside gave a somewhat sympathetic glance his way through the clear window of the door, sighing as they shook their head and resumed their conversation with the other individuals._

_"Poor kid. At this rate, I'm beginning to wonder if anyone'll want him."_

* * *

"Hm..."  Joker's eyes scanned the vast array of weapons laying in the trunk of the car. His lips puckered together as he ran his hand over a rather large machine gun settled in the center, before his hand settled on the handle. He took a moment to grasp it, before pulling it out and taking aim. A test aim, he'd like to think, but with the way the dealer reacted, you'd think the thing was loaded and he was actually going to shoot.

Hah, funny. He wouldn't dream of such a thing.

Not yet anyways.

A nervous chuckle emitted from the shorter man, and he almost looked tempted to lower the gun himself out of paranoia, but given who his client was...it probably wouldn't be a smart move. So instead, he opted to place his hands in his pockets and take a step back, letting out another nervous chuckle.

"Good choice there, that one's a beauty." he said, trying to make his voice sound less shaky than it already was. Joker gave no response straight away, still inspecting the weapon closely as he turned it towards the car. The dealer swallowed hard, clearing his throat.

"Go-got it for a really good deal, I tell ya it's a real bargain." he insisted, managing a feeble smile. "I could sell it to you for a real good price, J. Any price you want."

"Huh..." Only a noise came from Joker, no words still. Finally, he lowered the gun and tossed it back into the back of the trunk, it hitting the other guns with a clank. He leaned against the car, putting his hands on the top of the trunk's top, shaking his head as he clucked his tongue. It was then he noticed another gun, similar to the one he'd just been holding. Only there was something a little more familiar about it...

"Oh, how about that, huh? Got that one in a pair, there's another just like it somewhere in there." A small laugh from the dealer. "Could give that to you for a really good price too."

He cut a look towards the dealer, grinding his teeth.

"That you could, Frank..." he growled. He held up the gun, walking towards the man.  The man took a step back, a little startled by his sudden change in attitude. Normally any person who'd had dealings with the Joker in the past, would know better than to stay close when he was growling...or holding a gun, for that matter.

A mean grin spread across his face, as he shoved the gun in the man's face.

"Thing is, I don't plan on paying a measly cent for my own weapons."

"W-what?" Frank sputtered, taking another step back. "How did--I mean, I swear I didn't--you don't really think I--"

"Can the chit-chat, Frankie. Words were never your forte anyways." Joker pulled the gun back, and pointed a pale finger at the gold engraving on the side, tapping it twice to make sure the confused man noticed. His previously-flushed face immediately draining of its color, and he stumbled back again, though careful not to stumble back into the Gotham harbor which was right behind him. Joker's grin transformed into an amused smirk as he lowered the gun.

"Ahah, caught you, didn't I?"

"J, I swear man, I wasn't trying to--"

"What did I say about that chit chat? Huh?"

Frank shut up.

Joker turned around, tossing the gun to the ground and kicking it over to the side. He turned his head back halfway towards the now-quivering Frank, acting like the kid who'd just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Now I'll be taking all of these, all of 'em, back with me, where they belong. And I'm not payin' a cent for them, understand, pal?"

The nervous man only nodded, smiling shakily.

"O-of c-course, J, anything you want. Just don't--don't rat me out or anythin', please?"

Joker had turned his back, and kept it turned. Though he listened.

"A lotta guys depend on me for weaponry in this city. You'd be taking out a strong link, here."

He stayed still. A chuckle escaped his throat.

"Oh, I'm aware of that. Quite aware of that, actually." He turned around, pulling his own gun out from his coat. "But to be fair, I think I'd actually be doing this city a favor by getting rid of a crook who'd rather sell people their own weapons back."

A harsh chuckle now came from Frank, who looked rather amused.

"You're calling' me a crook? That's real low coming from you, J." Joker's eye twitched, which should have been a warning sign for Frank to stop.  But he kept going, apparently not having got the memo that Joker was someone you shouldn't be casual with.

"If anyone's the crook here, it's y--"

Bang.

Followed by a splash.

Frank's body fell, a bullet hole now marked in his head, down past the barriers of the road and straight into the harbor he'd been trying to avoid falling into beforehand. Joker walked over, eyeing the corpse as it floated, and blood pooled around it. He put his gun away, a satisfied smirk on his face.

If that man had dared to even steal his weapons, and then try calling him the crook? Him? The King of Gotham, a crook. No, he wasn't going to be allowed to get away with that.

"I don't want to question your actions, boss, but was that really necessary?" His attention went back to Frost, who was approaching him after having been quietly standing by on the sidelines. "Frank was our top provider, after all."

"And a lousy cheapskate." Joker huffed, adjusting his coat as a cold breeze hit him from behind. God, he hated the cold. “He tried to sell us our own weapons, Johnny! Can you imagine the nerve of someone like that?"

"Hardly, Mister J."

"Exactly, see, I knew you'd understand." He turned around, gesturing towards the trunk. "Tell the boys to load the van up, we're getting' out of here."

"Right away, sir."

Frost turned, walking back to where the rest of the henchman had been waiting. Joker heard him speaking to them, but his focus wasn't on that. He only looked back, once more, to see that Frank's body had sunken beneath the murky water. The only evidence that he'd been there was the bloody stain in the water where he'd fallen.

A short chuckle.

This would be a fun tale to tell Harley when he got back. It'd been a lonely two weeks coming out into the city without her, but this was something he refused to admit out loud to anyone, though on the inside he'd already had to admit it. Things tended to get more entertaining whenever she came along for the ride, and he couldn't help but wonder how she would have handled this situation.

Probably in a similar manner, he guessed. Only with more giggling and high-pitched-ness, maybe.

He had tried to not think about her, as it would be distracting, but it had been two weeks since she'd gotten sick. She'd never stopped throwing up, thankfully it wasn't as frequent now and she was almost always in bed. As much he didn't want it to worry him...it was concerning. He'd never seen her that sick before, not ever.

Gracious, it was probably killing her not to be out here right now.

Well, he supposed it was probably flu season again. It wasn't like they could afford to be seen in public getting flu shots, and he be darned if he let another doctor put a needle in him. He just hoped whatever she had wasn't contagious, he couldn't have both of them out on the job when he had a big heist planned for the next week.

"Say, boss?"

Frost's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked back at him.

"These weapons, you knew he had them the whole time, didn't you?"

Joker cracked a smile, not before holding up a finger. He wagged it swiftly.

"That's not information I'm choosing to disclose to you, Johnny." He sounded almost scolding. "Now are we loaded up?"

"All loaded and ready to go, Mister J. But I have to ask..."

Had he had an eyebrow, he would have raised it. But he instead cocked his head side to side, bones popping in the process.

"Yes?"

"Why get them back now? That charity bash isn't until next week."

"Ah, Johnny. You know me." Joker cackled briefly, and began walking forward, stopping beside Frost. He gave him a swift pat on the shoulder, startling the man briefly. "I always like to be one step ahead of the preparations. I find it gives me an advantage, of sorts. Now..."

Another blast of cold wind. He growled, pulling his coat again.

"Let's get outta here before either one of us becomes a human icicle."

* * *

 

**"Hey, you've reached Pamela. If you're hearing this, it means I probably had to take off for a while, so just leave a message after the beep and I'll call you back when I can. Bye!"**

Almost immediately after Ivy's voice mail ended, the afore-mentioned beep buzzed in Harley's ear and she groaned, almost half-way facepalming. Voice mail had not been what she'd been wanting to hear right now, she'd never liked it in the first place but given the moment's circumstances now was definitely not the time she needed to be hearing that.  She ran her hand down her face, letting it drag before it fell loose and hit her lap, then she sighed.

"Heya Pammy, it's uh, it's me, Harley. " She pulled her hand back up, rubbing the back of her neck as she spoke. The air conditioning blew warm air on her from above, causing strands from her pigtails to swish. "Look, I really need to talk to ya so if you could call me back, that'd be uh, that'd be great. Please."

The phone was set on the tiled floor, and Harley's attention slowly back to the white stick pressed in her other hand.

She refused to open her hand, she refused to look.

But it'd been the allotted time the box had said to wait...two to three minutes, at least. It'd felt a lot longer, that was for damn sure, but even now she couldn't bring herself to look. Despite not having even looked, her face was the epitome of flustered and upset, but that could be discovered why easily. Just a look at the trash can behind her showed a dozen pregnancy tests that had been hastily discarded, some with two lines, some with one.

Each had come back negative and positive, no even results.

Poor Tim, she'd lost count how many times she'd asked him to go back out and get another one for her. Probably about ten now, to be honest. And the tenth time had only been a food request, the anxiety of this whole situation had made her hungry and she needed stress-food.

But regardless, Tim had come back not only with her requested burger and fries, but with yet another test. He hadn't said anything, but Harley couldn't help but feel just a bit bad for the guy. Before her worries had come surging in, this would have an easy work day for him.

So now, while she was in here, he was outside on the balcony, taking a well-deserved smoke break. Her food sat beside her, the burger only half-eaten and probably cold by now. The only thing that seemed to be even halfway consumed was the bunch of cheesy fries formerly stacked on the plate. It wasn't until she'd even finished those had she been consumed with the paranoia that that might have been her first craving, which did not help the situation any.

Another whoosh of air hit from the vents.

As a means of distracting herself, she picked up her burger and attempted to take another bite of it, but the cold meat came back almost as quickly as she had swallowed it, Harley having to refrain from choking as she gagged the stuff back up. She hit her chest, coughing, and spat her tongue out in disgust. The burger hit the ground, missing the plate by a long shot, but even that whole ordeal wasn't proving to be enough to distract her from the obvious fact that the test had beeped about five minutes ago, and she was doing everything in her power to not look at it.

It was known these things were faulty, her momma had said to never trust these things, that they were about as reliable as a car that had smoke coming from its engine. Maybe that's why she'd taken so many, and maybe it hadn't been a good call considering that they'd all had uneven results. She was almost tempted to do a game of rock, paper, scissors to settle it and be done, but then again, she also wanted to make dang sure and confirm her suspicions, and not end up with a surprise in nine months if she was wrong.

Which the real question was, did she want to be wrong about this? It was a debatable thought, but not one she wanted to dwell on...

Oh, to hell with it.

Inhaling sharply, she unfolded her hand with nervous anticipation, hoping to see just one line this time... _please...please oh please_ , were the only thoughts she had as she pulled her fingers back.

Two pink lines.

Two thin, little pink lines, right in the center of the small display.

That was the exact opposite of what she'd wanted to see.

Almost immediately, she felt any composure she'd had previously shatter into a million pieces. A defeated, almost disheartened sob escaped her throat and she dropped the test to her lap, covering her mouth as another sob came out. Several deep breaths later, she looked down at the test to reaffirm what she'd seen wasn't a hallucination. It didn't hurt to be sure, considering she was off her meds and all...not she'd ever been taking them to begin with.

But when she looked, they were still there. The same, damned pink lines. As before, with many of the others.

Her hand shook, but her fingers kept an iron grip on the test, as if by squeezing the thing would cause it to break into a thousand bits and she wouldn't have to look at it anymore. That wouldn't change the fact she was probably pregnant, though. Darn these things for being so indecisive, but then again, the positives had been outweighing the negatives in this scenario...

Oh god.

Oh god, what if she _was_ pregnant?

Both lips quivered, alongside her insides. She fought hard to keep anymore memories from resurfacing, she definitely did _not_ need that right now. But how was she supposed to feel? The only thing she felt right now...was a question. Numbness, anger, fear? Maybe a whole mixture of the bunch?'

This was almost a repeat of last time, wasn't it? Only she wasn't in a shaky position this time...back then, it had been different. She did what she did because she had to, she had a reputation to uphold then.

But what about now? Did her reputation still mean anything?

Probably not.

Yet, despite being in a more stable position now...she didn't know if she could feel happy or not. All this timing...she didn't know what to make of it. She'd only been out of Belle Reve for a month, yet too much had happened already. The whole incident with the Pendergasts...knowing that a child had been left orphaned, what Evelyn had said...

No, she was overthinking this. She was letting it get to her head.

But then...before all that...there had been that vision. That vision in her mind, during her and the squad's battle with Enchantress...

She vaguely remembered it. It was...it was a normal life. She and Joker....were normal folks, two perfectly normal folks without a screw loose in their mind, and they had a pair of beautiful babies...two perfect, beautiful babies. Being with Joker had been all she thought she ever wanted, but she wondered if there was really a part of her, somewhere in there, that wanted those babies too...

Her hand moved to her stomach, absent-mindedly.

If she was pregnant...if these tests weren't bullshitting her...

What would she do? And more importantly, how would her puddin' react?

Once again, they'd never discussed having kids, or raising a family. It just wasn't something they could do, not with their lifestyle, not with their line of business. It just wouldn't work.

_"Normal is a setting on a dryer, people like us don't get normal!"_

Her own words echoed in her head. Normal...no, she wasn't normal. Hadn't been in a long time. But did she need to be normal to be a parent? It wasn't like she had an official card to get revoked or something.

But there was still the fact she had no idea how the Joker would react. With how much she'd been sick, how much he'd hovered around her...finding out that she was pregnant was the cause of this...it wasn't pleasant to think about. She'd always been so careful to avoid trying to talk about things like kids or family around him, he never seemed to like the idea of such a thing.

And the thing was, she _still_ didn't know how she should feel.

Maybe...maybe she did want this baby, if it was truly there...somewhere deep inside, there was a little girl inside of her, a little girl who'd played with baby dolls, and always bragged about having babies of her own someday, and she'd be the best mommy ever.

She'd always wanted kids, even when she was one, she just forgot.

But this was entirely the opposite of how she'd pictured starting a family. If she even had that luxury.

The door to the bedroom outside opened and shut, and Harley suspected it was probably Tim coming back in to check on her since she'd not left the bathroom in hours.

So, she started to get up, brushing aside any tears that had fallen, but paused as she heard the familiar sound of Joker's voice muttering in the other room. A small crash sounded, like he'd thrown something, and she decided it would probably be a good idea to step in and see what the matter was. Either he wasn't in a good mood, or he'd misplaced something again, she didn't know.

But when she opened the door and stepped out, she saw him standing with his back to her, his hands gripping at his hair in bunches. A vase lay broken on the ground and the bed looked to be even more a mess then she'd left it. Carefully, Harley stepped over the vase, and the sound of her footsteps alerted Joker to her presence. He looked around to see her. Almost instantly, a grin...maybe one of relief, although also a mischievous one, spread on his face and he opened his embrace.

"Ah, there she is! There's my little devil." he quipped. He pulled Harley into his arms as she walked up, pulling her tightly. She yelped at feeling his nails digging in her back, yet relaxed in his embrace, as tight as it was. It almost felt good to have his arms around her, considering her previous mood...might as well enjoy it now before she had to tell him.

She didn't want to, but they'd always been open with each other in the past. He'd be mad if she kept anything else from him, she knew it.

So, for now, she allowed a smile on her face, and turned her face to his shoulder, nuzzling it while softly giggling.

"Hi puddin', I missed ya." she chirped. "Have fun today?"

"The best kind of fun, naturally." Joker released her from his hold, though kept his hands on her shoulders. His hands didn't stay there long however, as they then slid down and picked up her smooth, smaller hands in his, squeezing them.

"I do hope Timothy looked after you well today...you know I hated the idea of leaving you here, I really did, Harls." he said. "I know you'd rather be out there...in the city..."

He swung her hands and his together, pausing in his speech. Harley could only feel like collapsing on the inside now though, knowing what she knew, and him, acting this way...if only he knew. She said nothing about it, and just kept smiling back at him, as he looked back up at her, and continued speaking.

"...having fun, blasting away with, with your little gun..." He cackled briefly. "I know you've missed that, and I _hateeed_ taking that away from you...but I also don't want you getting shot during a heist all because you had to throw up. That'd be a pathetic way to go out, wouldn't it?"

Another cackle, and Harley returned the giggle and released one of his hands, still swinging the other one.

"It's okay, baby. I understand." Not really a lie, she'd been feeling like crap and she had to admit it'd been a good idea for her to stay in bed. "Besides, I'm feeling much better now, see? I got out of bed today and I haven't felt like throwing up at all, not even from eating."

She opted not to mention seeing Evelyn Pendergast on TV, which was probably a good idea.

"Well that is just _fantastic_ to hear, baby doll." His expression almost looked delighted, as he reached up to swipe a strand of her hair back. His smile remained.  "So, does this mean you'll be able to accompany me to the North Gotham Charity Gala, next week.... maybe? I hear it's going to be _packed_ , and I'm short a plus-one."

"Ooh, charity huh?" Harley looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know you were the charitable type, Mistah J."

"Oh, there's a lot of things you don't know about me..." Joker ceased the hand-swinging and pulled her closer to him until they were almost face to face. Her face was at his shoulder, he was all but breathing down her neck. Without warning, he pressed his lips against her neck, which caused her to squeal and jump back, but he grabbed onto her playfully and smashed his lips against hers, which was an affection that she immediately returned.

The two stumbled past the bed, Harley gripping at the posts before they both fell onto the mattress, still enraptured with their arms around each other, Joker having now moved his focus elsewhere. She could hear him breathing heavily, as he moved down and placed several wet kisses on her neck, her chest. His hands clawed at her, like a wild animal, moving to take her shirt off, and she had her arms around him, nails digging into his back now.

Guilt almost overtook her at the thought of remembering the pregnancy test in the other room, but she didn't care right now. Two weeks had been without this much attention, and she wasn't letting it go now.

Still, the guilt persisted.

The pressure her nails had had on his back slowly ceased, which he seemed to take notice of. Her head only drooped to the side as thoughts filled her mind, and she felt his hot breath come close to her ear.

"Put your hands back, Harls. That felt good." She heard him purr. "Put 'em back like a good girl, okay? Okay?"

She turned her gaze back to him.

"Sorry, don't know what got into me." she mumbled, moving her hands back into place.  She gasped as she felt his caps digging at her neck and squirmed, squealing. Her cheeks felt hot, yet she fought to let her urges to overtake her guilt. And it worked, for now anyways.

One hand hit the covers, grabbing at them as their lips met again, drool leaking out from her mouth. It was almost too perfect of a moment, that she had forgotten that Tim was out on the balcony still taking a smoke. Neither of them seemed to notice, or care, of course, until he stepped in. It only took until he'd disposed of his cigarette in a nearby ash tray did he become aware of their gasps and spared a rather scarred look towards the bed.

It would have been in his best interest to leave, and he was about to do so, when he heard a low growling sound. A disheveled Joker looked over at him, obviously very annoyed and very disappointed to have been interrupted when he was almost heated up like this. It was bad enough to interrupt the Joker during a conversation or confrontation, whatever, but interrupting time with his queen was another thing.

Had poor Tim just not emptied his cigarette ashes in here, the smell wouldn't have given him away.

"Excuse me, don't you have something _better_ to do?" Joker jeered from the bed, Harley giggling from underneath him. Tim stuttered, but he didn't have a chance to speak, as Joker was already jabbing his thumb towards the door.

"Out!" he barked, in a tone loud enough to shake the room. This was all Tim needed. He scurried out of that room, nodding, and almost running, like a scared little mouse. Joker watched him leave, rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to Harley.

"God, you just can't help find reliable help these days." he sighed.

Harley only giggled again, before briefly laughing and shaking her head.

"Awe puddin', don't be so hard on him. He's just a kid."

"A kid, maybe. More like a pain in the ass."

"Hey, lay off. Besides, you gotta be nice to him. He took good care of me all day." Harley messed with the buttons on Joker's jacket, looking up at him with the expression of an innocent child. "C'mon, at least pay him well. He could use the cash to buy a new pair of pants since you probably just made him crap his."

"I don't care, a trained monkey could've taken better care of you than that doofus." Joker huffed.  He sat up, combing his hair back with his fingers. He halted halfway when a thought struck him.

"Wait, I pay these guys?"

"Duh." Harley rolled to her side.  "Why do you think they keep workin' for you?"

"Huh. Well. I thought it was because I threatened their families." He eyed her, laying forward on his stomach. She tipped her head to the side, snickering, but that ceased again as the nagging thought of the test came back to her mind.

_Not yet._

Coyly, she smirked over at him and rested her head against her hand, her elbow propped on the mattress.

"Okay, so maybe that's why." she said. "But since he's gone now, can we get back to uh, what we started?"

She moved her hand towards him, but he swatted it away, to her surprise. He was moving to the edge of the bed, moving to get up.

"Not now, Harls. I lost anything I had going there thanks to that twit." he muttered. His arms stretched, arching behind his head as he grunted. Harley's lips fell into a pout.

"Aw but--"

"No buts, damn it." She shut her mouth as he snapped. "I've had a long day anyways...now if you'll excuse me, I believe the shower is beckoning to me."

He padded across the room and opened the bathroom door.

"You are of course, welcome to join me." he rasped, causing a shudder to go up Harley's spine. The door clicked shut, and she sighed happily, falling back onto the bed.

But it wasn't a moment later until she heard a noise from the bathroom, before she even had a chance to get up or do or think anything else, and Joker came charging out of the bathroom, slamming the door open. Something was gripped tightly in his hand and he approached the bed, swiftly with heavy footsteps.

His feet halted.

"Oh, Harley darling..."

Oh god. She knew that voice.

That was not a good voice.

She froze from having previously been fidgeting with the silk blankets on the bed, looking up at him. She saw his fist gripped and felt a pang of alarm smack her right in the stomach. The look on his face...it looked angry, yet he had a mean grin on his face. Despite that, she managed to offer him a shaky, innocent smile.

"Y-yeah puddin'?

"Would you mind telling me, why the hell I just found this on our bathroom sink?"

He thrust the object from his hand onto the bed, revealing the positive pregnancy test. Dead silence filled the room as Harley stared down at it, her mouth agape. She gulped back words, not knowing what to say, as she slowly looked up at him. A cold, mad, expression filled his face now, one she didn't like. A cold, harsh face, as he waited for her to answer.

But she didn't know how to answer him.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Would you mind telling me, why the hell I just found this on our bathroom sink?"_

_He thrust the object from his hand onto the bed, revealing the positive pregnancy test. Dead silence filled the room as Harley stared down at it, her mouth agape. She gulped back words, not knowing what to say, as she slowly looked up at him. A cold, mad, expression filled his face now, one she didn't like. A cold, harsh face, as he waited for her to answer._

_But she didn't know how to answer him._

Harley had had plenty of moments in her life where she'd hoped whatever was occurring would just turn out to be a nightmare, a bad dream. And this was definitely one of those moments, what was happening now, what was going to happen. Darn it, darn _her_. Why'd she let it slip from her mind...she'd left the test on the sink, how, how had she been so stupid to forget...

Her eyes locked back on the test, not daring to look up at Joker again after seeing the face he was displaying right now.

He still stood beside the bed, now placing both hands on his lips, bouncing lightly on his feet with impatience.

"Well? I'm waiting..."

A lump developed in her throat and she found herself unable to talk. Unable to form any sentence, for probably the first time in a long time. Normally when she was speechless around Joker, it was for different reasons. Not things like this.

"Harley..."

His voice came out low, her name being practically growled out. She still didn't answer, feeling her heart beat faster as her mind clouded up with gnarled thoughts. She felt her arms beginning to shake.

"Damn it Harls, answer me!" The sudden loudness of his voice startled her into lifting her head. He'd stepped back from the bed, but the coldness he'd previously been carrying had transformed into something else. Something ugly. Her unwillingness to answer seemed to be perturbing him, which she did not do often, so in her mind she had a feeling this was not going to end well.

A rough growl emitted and he stepped back over, grabbing the test and shoving it into Harley's hand, afterwards gripping her wrist tightly and yanking her smaller hand up. She uneasily grunted and tried to pull away, his grip on her felt like a vice, and held on with crushing ferocity.

"Mistah J... please, let go--you're hurtin' me..." she protested weakly, still struggling to break free, but he only tightened his hold, causing her to cry out. He leaned closer, the anger on his face becoming scarily apparent as his eyes stayed locked on her, more growls emitting.

"Not until you tell me...." he snarled. "...what I want to hear..."

His grip remained as he lifted her hand up, the test pressed in her fingers. Her lips were curled in pain, and she struggled to yank away from his hold again, but this only resulted in a searing pain in her wrist as she felt a bone crack. She screamed, all while Joker simply sighed.

"You're making this so much harder than it has to be, baby..."

"Let me go and I'll tell you, then!" Harley pleaded, wincing from the pain in her wrist.

"I'll let you go...when you answer my damn question. What..."

He pushed her own hand to her face, making sure the pregnancy test was in her vision.

"...is this?"

Her wrist ached, and the lump in her throat had only gotten bigger. How much longer could she not talk, get away with not telling him anything? His attitude was only going to get worse...there was no point in delaying any further, was it? She'd said she'd tell him anyways, she had to. No point in delaying...no point in breaking a promise.

Especially when it was a fact he hated both of those things.

So, swallowing the lump down, she forced herself to look at the test, opening her mouth, yet taking a moment to find her voice.

"It's--it's um, just a pregnancy test, puddin'...that's all..."

"That's all!?" He released her hand with aggression, practically throwing it back against her. The angry smile returned and he stood back up, back from where he'd been leaning against the bed. Harshly chuckling, then speaking.

"See, see now that's an answer. But it's not the one I wanted to hear." The chuckle faded. "Let me try rephrasing that... _why_ was it in our bathroom? Why _, exactly_?"

"I... was, um..." Her injured wrist lay in her lap, as her other hand massaged it out of nervousness and a need to numb the pain. "Just...ya know...takin' it? Cuz what else would I be doin' with it?"

"And why? Because you've been sick? Because you thought--" His voice cut off before he said the last words. His mouth shut, almost like he didn't want to say it out loud. Pregnant. That she was pregnant. Was that was he going to say?  Had that thought not entered his mind the whole time she was laid up, or was he just really convinced she'd caught the flu or something?

Yeah, maybe if that was the case, he wouldn't be so upset right now. They wouldn't be having this conversation. And her wrist wouldn't be hurting.

She eyed him as he turned his back to her, noting that he'd fallen eerily silent after that last sentence.

"Because what, Mistah J? Because I thought I was pregnant?" Her own voice surprised her with how hollow it came out, how uncaring it sounded. Someone had to say it. If he didn't, she was going to. Things like this were on his blacklist of topics not to talk about....and it showed why.

But he didn't answer. Said nothing. Not straight away, anyway, because when he did speak, he sounded almost as low and hollow as Harley had.

"Are you?" Not even sparing her a glance.

It was her turn to fall silent. It occurred to her that this was their first major fight in a long time...not that'd missed them, but...damn. The tension was so uncomfortable.

"I... I dunno..." It was an honest answer, she really didn't know. Not after the uncertainty each test carried with it. "I've taken like...five of those tests...they keep comin' back either positive or negative, and even then, one of those could be a false positive, I just dunno."

This time, he really didn't reply, or even make a sound. Harley stayed glued to the bed, uncertain of whether to stay put or get up, go towards him...after about five minutes, she voted to do the latter. Slowly, she pulled herself off the bed, slowly padding across the room. His form was hard, stiff, something she noticed as she came closer.

Hesitantly, she reached, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Puddin'...c'mon..."

Still no response. His head was lowered, and he didn't seem to be paying attention. Not at all.

"Hey," She tugged at him, squeezing his shoulder, trying to get some response. "C'mon, please, please don't be that way. I'm about as upset as you are just thinkin' about it, but I--"

**_Smack._ **

She was cut off mid-sentence, as in a flash, he'd turned and slapped her, right on her cheek, halfly on her jaw. Nearly losing balance, she stumbled backwards and fell against the bed, clutching at her cheek in surprise. It throbbed wildly, stinging at even the slightest touch.  Not even getting a chance to compose herself, she found herself being pushed with force back onto the bed, and Joker's hands encircled themselves around her throat, his thumbs pressing in deeply. Gagging, Harley swatted her hands, trying to push him off her, but with no luck.

"M-M-i--stah J--I c-ca-ca--n't br-eathe!"

But he ignored her, all the ferocity was back on his face and he was growling, pushing her further into the mattress.

"You...no, you're not upset. You planned this, didn't you? Don't stand there and tell me otherwise! Don't lie to me!" he bellowed. "Daddy doesn't like it when you lie, Harley!"

"P--ple--please! I w--wasn't--I wasn't--lying!" More air escaped her throat, and she felt her eyes rolling back in her head. "I w--woul--would never lie--t-to y-you! I s-swe-ar!"

This was she'd needed to say. Reality seemed to sink in, as the angry look on his face melted into a horrified one. Maybe common sense hadn't hit him, but he'd never lay his hands on her like this...not recently, at least...not unless he was angry. Not unless he was really angry. Now had been one of those times, unfortunately, and though he didn't feel guilt, he still felt something, some remorse...

She felt his hands release her. Almost immediately, she gasped for air, her lungs aching. Coughing, she pushed herself back up, as she saw Joker stumbling back, grabbing at his hair, pacing the room, mumbling to himself. He turned to her, looking as if he was about to say something, but instead stopped and just shook his head, instead heading to the bedroom door.

Harley rubbed her now-sore neck, watching him. She felt her heart sink.

"Where...where are you goin'?" she asked.

"To find someone who can tell us if you're actually pregnant or not." He swung the door open. "Don't you even think about leaving."

The door slammed shut, leaving Harley alone in the giant bedroom. Her heart had sunk, but her stomach felt hollow, her lower lip pouting out as it began to quiver. Tears stung at her eyes, and this time, she couldn't bring herself to fight them back. Instead, she collapsed against the mattress, the pillows, and just started crying.

* * *

 

Hours later, she woke up, having worn herself out from sobbing so much. Sleepily, she sat up, rubbing at her eyes. Outside, it was dark now, and the clock said it was about 7:30. A shuffling noise alerted her, and she turned her head to see an older man in a beige sweater sitting at the desk nearby, his focus on some sort of medical device. Confusion set in, and then she noticed the band-aid on her arm.

"What the hell..." Her voice alerted the man, and he looked back, not before jumping out of alarm first.

"O-oh, hi there. You're awake." he said.

Harley blinked at him, still half-awake and too groggy to even care.

"Hi...who are you?"

"Oh--oh, me?" The man nervously smiled. "You can just--uh, call me Dr. Maxwell. You don't have to worry about me much longer, Miss Quinn, I promise I'll be out of your hair soon. It'll just be another couple of minutes."

"What...?" Harley blinked several times, now fully awake. She realized that Joker was not in the room, her eyes darting about, scanning for him. But he wasn't around. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

The doctor sighed.

"I knew I should have waited until you were awake. I--I know, I wanted to, but Mister J insisted on getting it done now..." he explained, as he turned back to his device. "I didn't like the idea of drawing blood from you while you were asleep, I almost thought you were going to wake up after that."

Wait, what?

To her dismay, she didn't get to ask why he was drawing blood from her, as the door swung open and Joker entered. Their eyes met, his gaze sharp and quiet, but he said nothing to her. The sinking feeling in her heart immediately returned as she remembered their last exchange, and suddenly understood what was going on.

Their gazes stayed locked for a moment, before Joker turned to Dr. Maxwell and placed his hand on the desk, leaning on it heavily.

"Are you going to be much longer here, doc?" he hissed, causing the already-nervous man to shudder. He gave an earnest nod, shakily smiling Joker's way.

"It'll be just another minute, sir, I promise..."

The Joker eyed him dubiously, but slid back, running his hand back against the wood. He walked to the edge of the bed and sat, muttering something under his breath. Harley stayed behind him on the bed, in silence. She didn't dare speak up, nor did she want to.

The clock ticked, and the minute passed. The doctor took off his glasses, then turned to face the couple behind him.

"Well? Is she knocked up or what?" Joker spoke first, earning an annoyed look from Harley at his statement. Though that question made her nervous...this was an official test, they'd officially know after this. There'd be no more questions afterwards. Just either a baby...or no baby.

Dr. Maxwell scratched at his head, before sighing heavily. He gave a small nod.

"From the test results say...it appears so." he said. "First trimester, so I wouldn't say she's too far along. There's still a risk for miscarriage this early along so...just, stay aware of that, I'm sure you don't wanna, uh, you know. Lose it, or anything."

Neither Harley or Joker reacted, at least, not vocally. Harley moved her hand to her stomach, without meaning to, letting the man's words mull over in her mind. First trimester...test results...were positive...

So, half those dollar store test had been truly positive then? She was...

"...pregnant..." She found the word escaping her lips. "...does, does this mean--I'm going to have a baby, then?"

"Uh, yes, Miss Quinn." The doctor offered her a timid smile, albeit a kind one as well. "It looks like it."

Visions of that scene from Enchantress filled her mind again...she saw her babies again. Both beautiful babies, one at her hip, the other in a high chair...unintentionally, she found herself smiling at the thought.

Though, it didn't seem Joker was sharing her newfound enthusiasm. He noticed her smile, briefly, but instead cleared his throat and jumped to his feet.

"Well, thank _you_ for being the one to tell us, doctor." he quipped. He strode over to the man and gave him a swift pat on the shoulder.  "I'm sure you'd like to get home now, though, am I right? Oh, so sorry for interrupting your drive by the way."

"It was um...no trouble, Mister Joker, I..." The other man's voice faded as he felt Joker's grasp on his shoulder tightening. He leaned down, close the man's ear, and whispered.

"Don't tell a soul you were here, got it? Or you-know-who gets it..."

Sullenly, Dr. Maxwell nodded. Joker grinned back at him and slapped his shoulder again, standing back up. He watched as the doctor gathered up his things, shoving them back into the bag, before walking over to the door. He stopped short before leaving, however, and looked back.

"She'll be home when I get back, right--"

"Of _courseee,_ what kind of person do you take me for?" Joker gave a wave of his hand. "Now get out before I change my mind. I trust you can find your way out..."

That was all it took. The doctor nodded again, and scurried out the door as quick as possible. When he'd left, Joker walked over to the door, pushing it shut with a tap from his finger. He pursed his lips together, turning back to look at Harley on the bed. She seemed to have gone off in a bit of daydream state, that same smile on her face as she twirled her hand against the covers. He huffed, storming over.

"Well I hope you're satisfied." he grumbled, his loud voice snapping her back to attention. She looked daze before blinking quickly, then the smile disappeared. In disbelief, she turned to him.

"What? You think I wanted to hear that?"

"Oh, cut the bullshit, I saw you smiling..." He walked around to the other side where she was, his feet heavy with fury. "Fucking hell, Harls, don't tell me you're actually happy about this!"

That was a good question, was she happy about this?

"I... well, I mean, it's not bad news..."

"It's not?! Oh my god...of course..." A loud, harsh laugh came from Joker as he stooped halfway down, laughing hard enough to the point of where it looked like he was going to fall over. Harley could only watch in shock, shock that he was reacting that way, but she should have expected it. When he finally calmed down, even then he still gave short laugh as he steadied himself.

"Of course, of course it's not bad news. Because having a kid is totally not going to get in the way of things, not in the slightest."

"Mistah J..."

"It's not like half our life consists of...guns, mayhem...oh yeah, let's just a throw a kid into all of that. Sounds perfect, ideal!"

"Stop that."

"What's this mean, then? Are we supposed to give all of that up? Drop everything, drop the empire that I've worked so hard to build through all these damn years, just to become those parents who bring the crappy snacks to PTA meetings?" His laughter stopped, as he looked at the floor, shaking his head. "God, doesn't that sound exciting."

No more laughter, or any noises at all of the sort. His eyes went back to her.

"Yeah, I don't think so." he said.

Harley bit her lip.

"Then what are you suggestin'...if...since..."

"We can't keep it." He answered before she even finished. Panic stabbed at her and she found her mind going blank, the one memory she'd been fighting to hold back come surging back all over again. A white room...doctors...sharp tools...oh...god, the sharp tools...

_The brief glance she had of her tiny, unborn child as the doctor's removed it's lifeless corpse from her._

Involuntarily, she screamed, startling Joker, causing his eyes to widen. Gripping the blankets, she shivered, shaking her head, quickly, desperately.

"No....no...no, what, does that mean, does that mean we have to get rid of it? You're sayin' we kill it? Is that it?"

"Well I don't wanna put it like that directly, but yes."

"No!" _The corpse of the baby floated in her mind._ "No! I... --I can't do that--why would you even--"

She sucked in several breaths, then looked at him seriously, with even more disbelief than before.

"Why would you want to do that...to your own baby?" Her voice shaking. Joker sighed and tried to grab her by the shoulders.

"Harley, hey now baby, listen--" He began but she pulled back, now angry.

"No! This isn't just my kid, puddin', it's yours too!" she spat. "Why would you even think of killin' your own baby?"

"Because we have to, Harls. What kind of life are we going to give this kid, huh?" Joker grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her to face him directly. "What do we have to offer? God, despite everything, it's--it's parents are considered criminals. They'd be the shame of the entire school."

"But it'd have us!" she persisted, trying to jerk away from him. He didn't let go. "We're the King and Queen of Gotham, nobody would dare disrespect our kid, nobody would even try."

"Damn it, will you shut up? You're not listening to me!" This time he shook her, violently, her head jerking back roughly. His nostrils were flaring, but he took a moment to calm down, closing his eyes, then reopening them.

"Look...it's not that I don't want the brat or anything." he said lowly. "It's just...I _don't_ want the brat. Case closed. I can't be a dad, Harley, look at me. Do I look like father of the year material, hell, do I act like it? No, no we're getting rid of it. End of story."

"No."

He stiffened at the word she'd just uttered. Slowly, as he had been turning to get up, he glared at her.

"What did you just say?"

"I said..." Harley stopped, but straightened, getting off the bed and standing up beside him. She looked him straight in the eyes, swearing she could have seen fear behind them...and held her head up. Every voice in her brain was screaming at her to just stop now before she got hurt again, but she didn't care.

There was no way she was getting rid of another one. Not again. She'd swore it after that first time, and she wasn't going back on it now.

"I said, no." Her words caused Joker's nostrils to flare up again, and had this been a cartoon there probably would have been a whoosh of smoke coming out from his ears. He curled his fists together, sucking in his lower lip, silently huffing. Several steps, he took towards her...slowly, angrily...

"Did you just say no to me?" he snarled.

She didn't nod, or say yes. He kept coming towards her, and suddenly she felt a twinge of regret. Not only regret, but of fear as well. Fear for the unborn life in her now, and her hand went instinctively to her midsection.

"Mistah J... please, don't...I know what you're thinkin'...." she pleaded, but her words fell on deaf ears. His face twisted into a cruel expression, and she started backing up.

"Mistah J... Daddy, please, I'm sorry..." She continued to beg, stumbling past a chair, nearly falling. None of her words were working, he kept coming. From the ground, he picked up his cane where it had fallen earlier, beginning to smack it in a sinister manner as he came closer to her. She was backed up against the wall now, unable to move any further.

"Don't...don't...please..." she whimpered, pressing her hand even tighter against her stomach. Joker stopped in front of her, his mouth now twisted into a snarl. He lifted the cane, showing off the knob at the top.

"Move your arm...." he muttered.

"What?" Harley wrapped her entire arm around her midsection now. "N-no, no, you're not gonna hurt it! Please!"

"I said move your arm!" he barked. "I don't...I don't want to hurt you, Harley...just...get rid of that thing in you...I promise I'll make it quick, just move your arm..."

"No! Please!" Her voice cracked, tears spilling out from her eyes. "Don't you dare!"

His mouth shut, and he released an inward sigh, shaking his head. A minute later the knob of the cane came swinging down, smacking Harley's arm. It dug in, and she screamed in pain, but she didn't move her arm from where it was. She refused. The cane came swinging down again, tearing her skin open. Several more smacks, before she finally recoiled, screaming, crying, as her arm flew away, leaving her stomach, her child, vulnerable to be attacked.

Clinging to her arm, she looked at Joker once more, with a pleading expression. She'd never seen him act this way before, not willingly hurt her...not in a long, long time...not unless...

"Puddin', p-please, please, don't..." she begged, her voice coming out in a loud sob. But he ignored her, raising the cane to strike again. Harley knew she could move, could duck, but her legs felt numb. She could only stand there, and cry out again as the knob smacked her right in the stomach. Searing pain, bruising, awful pain...she cried out loudly, sinking down halfway to her knees. The cane was coming back, she heard a growl.

"Get back up." he growled.

"I c-can't...you'll kill it..."

"That's right, that's the whole idea of this routine, sweetheart!" The cane hit her on the head this time, causing her head to start throbbing. "Now on your feet so I can finish this!"

He practically screamed the last order at her, but she still couldn't bring herself to move.  Smack. Again, the cane hit her head. Now wailing, Harley slowly pushed herself up, against the wall. Joker smirked, then raised the cane to strike again. As the knob came down to pierce her stomach, Harley felt a flash of that memory come through again. Alarm, panic, and bravery, maybe...suddenly came surging through. No, no, no she wasn't going to lose this baby. Maybe she didn't want it before, maybe not...but he was actually serious. He was going to kill this baby if she kept acting like a pussy.

Now alert, she grabbed the cane before it came down, tightly. Joker growled at her interference and tried to shake it loose, jerking back in annoyance.

"Let. Go." he snapped.

Harley tipped her head at him, but she made no expression.

"I said...LET GO!"

Her hands slipped from the cane, letting go as he said. But before he could bring it down again, she'd ran to the dresser and had opened it. Joker chased after her, huffing louder than before, growling even louder.

"Get back here, you little slut! I'm not done with you yet!" he yelled. He stopped short as he came face to face with the straight end of a gun's barrel. From behind it, stood Harley, staring back at him with a straight defiance. The cane was lowered, and a smile broke out on his face.

"You wouldn't..." he chuckled.

The gun shook, as Harley's hand shook. She said no words, but pulled her finger on the trigger. This painted a familiar picture in his mind, in her mind as well, of a similar event...long ago. When they'd first met.

_Harleen had the gun pressed to his temple. Startled, yet laughing, he held up his hands in fake protest._

_"Don't hurt me! I'll be your friend!" he fake-pleaded. But Harleen kept the gun pointed, aimed, staring angrily back at him. The amused expression fell from his face, a serious one replacing it. She wouldn't do it, she didn't have the nerve. But then again, she had just shot that driver back there..._

_"Do it." he said._

_She didn't move._

_"Do it, do it, do it, do it..." he continued, not lowering his hands. Harleen sucked in her lip, then cracked a tiny smile._

_"My heart scares you..." she said quietly. "But a gun...doesn't?"_

_What she said. He felt a stab of something in his heart, something he didn't like. His eyes flashed and he thrust his hands down._

_"Do it!"_

"Do it. Do it. C'mon baby, just pull that trigger." Harley's hand began to tremble even more. He kept the smirk, leaning forward on his cane.

"You know it'll make you feel better, if you do this, you can keep your little brat, and you won't have to worry about me. Just do it..." he continued. "You know you want to. Just pull that trigger."

Harley felt her arms go weak. Part of her screamed, yelled, to just release the trigger, release the bullet straight into him...and her baby would be safe.

But she couldn't. She couldn't do it. Just like before.

The gun fell from her hand, hitting the ground. Joker watched it fall, laughing, and then looked up at her.

"Yeah, I thought so." He lifted the cane up again. "Now, where were we?"

"No--" Harley stepped back, grabbing the dresser. "No, no, don't you dare."

He sighed, lowering it.

"You know, you're making this awfully hard..." he said. "How's about just staying still for just one minute, huh? I promise, you'll feel better after this is done, I promise. Just stay still..."

He began to lift it again, but Harley grabbed it a second time, this time managing to yank it free from his grip, and broke it over her knee. He gave a horrified yell and dove to pick up its pieces, stopping halfway though, and instead looking up at Harley with an all-too familiar face full of rage.

"You...bitch...." he growled.

He lifted his hand, about ready to slap her. But something stopped him. His hand froze halfway in the air, Harley just staring back at him quietly, silently, angry. He knew his hand should have been across her face by now, but it wasn't. It stayed frozen, before falling to his side. She lifted her head, her eyes and face red and swollen from crying, yet she looked defiant.

"I'm not lettin' you kill it, Mistah J'." she stated. "I'm not. And I'm not killin' it either."

Part of him wanted to ask what she meant by that, but instead he just huffed.

"Fine..." A snarl this time. "Then leave."

Her face contorted to a shocked expression. Had he just said...she hadn't...

"W-what?"

"I'm not repeating myself a second time..." Joker turned from her, striding across the room, straight to the other dresser. He watched Harley's reflection from the mirror his gaze was now fixated on. He lifted his hand, weakly waving it, before letting it drop.

"If you want the brat so badly then just...get out..."

_Get out...._

Harley's mouth dropped agape. No, no she hadn't wanted that. She didn't want that. Leave? **_Leave!??_** She couldn't do that, was he serious--was he...he couldn't be...no, maybe she didn't want the baby that badly, she had had mixed feelings after all...

No. No if she stayed he'd kill it.

Her feet dragged forward, slowly, towards him.

"Puddin'...I..."

"I said GET OUT!" He yelled, turning swiftly. With him he took the vase of flowers that Harley had found earlier on her way to the bathroom, the pink and red roses with the sweet smell...

He tossed the vase, it crashing right at Harley's feet. Dirt spilled out, and the red and pink roses wilted almost instantly. His back was turned again, he didn't dare look at her now after that stunt. He breathed heavily, leaned against the other dresser with his hands gripping at it. Heartbroken, Harley stepped back, feeling her body begin to shake out of desperation. She shook her head, repeatedly...stepping back...

Her tears came back, and she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. Numbness, sorrow, emptiness...that's what she felt. That's how she felt. Joker's hunched over form refused to budge, he refused to speak, or even look back.

"But...I love you..." He didn't even move at the sound of her weak voice. "We can still be happy...we can have the baby, and still be happy...can't we?"

Nothing.

No words.

Harley choked back a sob, and not a moment later, she'd backed away and bolted straight out the bedroom door. The moments of running through the living room, kitchen, hallway...all went by in a blur to her. She couldn't focus, only smash the elevator button, and then bolt straight outside, through the back door, into the alley...

It wasn't until she fell against the brick wall that she finally allowed herself to cry. She cried, long, hard, until her throat had gone raw from screaming. Several angry kicks to the wall, several to pebbles on the ground...and she fell against the wall, letting her fists hit it as she screamed again. She couldn't bring herself to do anything else. There was too much pain and betrayal in her heart, that she didn't know _what_ to do. 

As if to make the situation even more worse than it had been before, thunder cracked overhead and a fury of rain descended upon Gotham, immediately dousing anyone and everyone outside on the street. But Harley found herself not caring. She only hugged herself and turned around, sliding down to the ground, clutching her knees to her chest. Soon after, she felt her phone vibrating in her shorts’ pocket.

Gasping, she took it out and looked at the Caller ID, hoping that maybe Joker had changed his mind. But the screen displayed the caller as "Pammy <3". She sighed, and pressed accept, putting the phone up to her ear.

"Y-yeah? Hello?"

"Harley!? What the hell, I've been trying to reach you for three hours!" Ivy's worried voice blared over the phone, Harley having to plug her other ear to hear her over the sound of thunder and rain. "What's going on?? I got your voice mail, did something happen? Why does it sound like it's raining?"

"Because it is...I'm outside..."

"Huh?"

"Pammy, look..." She sniffed, rubbing at her nose. "I need...um...can I just--can I come over? I kind of need a place to crash..."

"O-of course, you can, don't be stupid! What happened?"

Harley sucked in her breath, not wanting to recount what had just occurred just yet. The visions of that knob striking her arm...Joker's hands around her throat. New, bad memories she didn't want to remember. She still couldn't believe...how he'd acted...what should she have expected? Open arms and sunshine?

Of course not.

Because normal was a setting on a dryer. There was no way she'd ever get anything remotely _close_ to anything normal.

"Just...I'll tell you when I get over, okay? I don't want to talk about it right now..." She pulled the phone back, as Ivy started to speak up again, but she pressed the red button to end the call. Setting the phone down, she stared at the touchscreen, then grunted, tossing the phone aside to a puddle in a fit of anger. Both hands folding back in her lap, she looked up, up at the sky, up towards the building where she her puddin' was still steaming...

Could she go back? Would he even let her come back?

She didn't dare find out now.

Pushing herself off the ground, she wrapped her arms across her chest, shivering, and began to slowly walk out of the alley, and into the street.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was positively downpouring by the time Harley had made it to Ivy's apartment complex, barely in one piece mentally and physically. It wasn't like she hadn't had it together before, but this was probably the worst shape she'd ever been in in a long, long time. The makeup she'd put on that morning was smeared down her face, half from crying, half from the rain, and her clothes were all but stuck to her skin at this rate.

Not to mention she was barefoot.

What a sight she must have been, stumbling down the street like a rejected prostitute. Her body ached, her wounds were terribly sore, stinging from the rainwater beating down on them...she didn't feel any better on the inside. Thankfully, not a lot of people were outside today, save for a select few on the opposite side of the street.  None had payed her any mind, and she didn't mind in the slightest. Last thing she wanted was prying eyes eating away at her, judging her, mocking her even...she would twist their necks in a heartbeat, she was not in the mood to be handled that way right now.

The cab that dropped her off whirred off behind her, leaving her standing in front of the tall building. She looked up at it, sighing as a shiver rippled through her. Might as well go in now, she'd said she was coming and she had nowhere else to go...but damn was she not looking forward to relaying this story to Ivy. Knowing her, she would strangle the Joker if she got a chance.

Her hand pressed against her stomach, against the bruise that had blossomed from the cane's knob. It stung, causing her to wince. Despite this, she smiled, weakly albeit, and looked down the best she could at where her hand rested.

"Don't worry little one, we're going to be okay..."

She was still shaking, probably from the cold...probably because she wasn't recovered from what happened. Both, maybe. Her feet treaded the wet sidewalk, and she pushed open the lobby doors, staggering inside. The warm air was welcome, as was the plush carpet against her sore feet. It was tempting...to just sit on one of those sofas plopped near the door, but she knew Ivy was probably waiting, probably on the edge of her own sofa wanting to strangle someone...that someone being Mistah J, no doubt. Or the nearest person available.

No doorman was in sight, so she headed over to the elevator and pressed the button to open. Two minutes, she waited, and a ding sounded as the doors opened, and two young women exited, chattering about some cute professor at their college or something, nothing Harley cared about. She stepped aside, letting them pass. Neither noticed her, or seemed to care, so she just entered the elevator and pressed the button to the sixth floor, as the doors shut.

The elevator hummed and whirred as it went up, giving Harley time to reflect. It wasn't pleasant, but none of what happened felt real. It happened so fast, so quick, so sudden, even...how, how had it happened...if only she hadn't gotten so careless...she thought she could get away with not taking her pill, for just once...

It'd been a special occasion, she thought she'd skip out on it for once.

The night she came home.

That must have been the night the baby had been conceived. That, or a night afterwards. She'd lost count how many times they'd.... well, did it matter now? Probably not. Not after how clear Joker had made his intentions...she'd never seen him so _angry_ before...at least not at her.

This only made her grateful she'd never asked about having kids or prodded the subject...she supposed this was her comeuppance for that.

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator arrived the six floor, and Harley padded out and down the hall, slowly, holding onto her injured arm as she stopped in front of Apart. 606. She lifted her left fist to knock until she felt a slight sharpness, pain...oh yeah. _He'd sprained it._

So, she knocked with her other fist.

Inside the apartment, Ivy had stood with her face towards the window, watching the rain as it mercilessly fell on the city. While she was happy, at least her outdoor plants were getting their drink, she didn't like the idea of Harley walking over here in this mess. At the very thought of the other woman, she heard the knock on the door and looked, immediately darting over.

She swung it open, and there stood Harley, a shivering, soaked mess. Their eyes met, and Harley slowly smiled at her, weakly lifting her arm to wave.

"Hiya..." she whispered.

Ivy said nothing yet, and instead eyed her best friend up and down, almost instantly noticing the way she clutched her wounded arm. Gasping, she stepped out of the apartment and reached out to touch it, but Harley winced, taking a step back. Ivy's heart sank and she reached out again.

"Just let me take a look." she said softly. "It's okay, Harley, you don't have to be scared."

"But it hurts..."

"I know, I know just..." This time, Harley relented, gasping out of pain as Ivy gently pulled her arm back and ran her finger over the deep cuts. Horror crossed her face, her eyebrows furling together with concern as she looked back up at her friend.

"Did he do this?" she said in a low voice.

Harley didn't answer right away, and only shifted her eyes to the side. She didn't want to say no, but she didn't want to say yes either. No, Ivy and her puddin' had never been on good terms, for as long as she could remember. He'd always been jealous of the attention she gave the other woman, and Ivy...well, she just couldn't stand him. Lord knows she didn't need to give her more reason to choke the living daylights out of him.

No words, however, still answered Ivy's question regardless. She sighed, her face falling, and she reached up and pushed back a strand of Harley's wet hair.

"Oh...Harley, I'm sorry..." The elevator doors dinged. "Come on, come in... I’ll get a first aid kit ..."

As another group of people exited the elevator, Ivy and Harley went back into her apartment, Ivy shutting the door behind them. She twisted the lock shut, and checked out through the peephole. Once she'd made sure it was no one following them, she turned back to Harley, who was standing like an awkward duck on the wooden floor. Water dripped off her, forming a puddle.

"God, ew, hey, hold on a sec..." Ivy made a face of disgust at her floor getting wet and darted off to another room. A minute later, she returned with a towel, wrapping it around her friend's shivering shoulders. Carefully, she led her over to the sofa, sitting her down gently, and helping her dry off. Harley pressed the towel against her face, wiping off the smeared makeup, and sighed.

"Thanks..." she muttered.

"Don't mention it." Ivy got back up, heading down across to the kitchen. She shuffled through the cabinets for three minutes before returning with a white box, which she opened and took out several cotton balls alongside some antiseptic. Harley watched as she poured some of the stuff on a cotton ball, and held it up towards her.

"You might want to bite down on your lip or something...this stuff uh, really stings..." she warned. Harley eyed it, but just shook her head, laying it back on the couch out of exhaustion.

"I don't care, just get it over with..." she mumbled. "It's not the worst I've had today."

Though hesitantly, Ivy nodded, and grabbed her friend's arm again. Slowly, she pressed the cotton ball against Harley's wounds, Harley only hissing as the antiseptic stung at her cuts. She gritted her teeth, and Ivy moved on to the next wound, and the next, before she finally finished. The cotton ball hit the coffee table and she picked up a roll of bandages from the kit.

"Sorry I'm not exactly an expert in this..." she apologized, as she attempted to bandage Harley's arm. "I didn't exactly pay attention in first aid training back in home ec. class..."

No words were spoken from Harley.  She instead stared blankly ahead of her, at nothing, at least, nothing particular. Ivy didn't realize her heart could sink as low as it had, and could only feel angry at the possible idea of what that bastard had done to her friend this time. She didn't ask yet, and instead finished bandaging her arm.

Upon finishing, she pushed herself up onto the couch, putting things back into the first aid kit in the process. Her eyes shifted to Harley, and she bit her lip. She set down the bottle of antiseptic before putting it back, and put her hand on the blonde woman's shoulder.

"Hey...Harley...talk to me." she pleaded. "Please, you're never this quiet. Just tell me what happened."

"I..." A pitiful whimper, before any more words. Harley choked, but couldn't bring herself to look at her friend.

"I'm pregnant..."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant, Red." She looked this time, her entire face quivering. "I'm...frickin' pregnant...with his baby..."

The color left Ivy's face, a pang of sorrow slicing at her heart. But that sorrow was quickly replaced by fury, her mouth curling angrily. She fought back the urge to go off right here and now, Harley needed her support, not her anger.

"Oh...my god..." she gasped. "So..."

She gulped.

"So... that’s why you sounded so urgent on the phone..."

"Y-yeah..." Harley gripped at her bandage arm, covering the bruise on her stomach. Ivy sucked in her lip, dreading the question she was about to ask.

"And... Joker?"

_"Puddin', p-please, please, don't..." she begged, her voice coming out in a loud sob. But he ignored her, raising the cane to strike again. Harley knew she could move, could duck, but her legs felt numb. She could only stand there, and cry out again as the knob smacked her right in the stomach. Searing pain, bruising, awful pain...she cried out loudly, sinking down halfway to her knees. The cane was coming back, she heard a growl._

_"Get back up." he growled._

_"I c-can't...you'll kill it..."_

_"That's right, that's the whole idea of this routine, sweetheart!" The cane hit her on the head this time, causing her head to start throbbing. "Now on your feet so I can finish this!"_

Her entire body winced, growing weak at remembering how he'd acted. An uneasy breath puffed out of her throat as she opened her mouth, sounded almost choked, and her eyes grew misty for perhaps the hundredth time that day. Trembling, she turned her focus to Ivy's worried face.

"He...he wasn't happy..." Her voice wobbled. "God...Pammy, I--I never seen him so mad before in my life. It was like having a wild beast claw me apart."

Ivy listened, having to force back a growl at the thought of Joker laying his hands on Harley, and instead took this out by gripping at the mattress of the sofa, tightly with no mercy even though this was just an inanimate object. But it was probably better than the alternative.

A slick sob sounded from Harley, and she cracked a wobbly smile out of pain, before wiping her tears back with the back of her hand.

"H-he wanted to kill it, Pam." she stumbled. "Murder it. Beat it out of me, his own damn baby! He would ‘a beat the shit out of me until he knew it was dead..."

She moved her arm to reveal the nasty bruise on her stomach. Ivy covered her mouth out of repulsion, and moved her hand from Harley's shoulder, sitting there in shock and processing what she'd just been told. Jesus...she always knew Joker could get a little rough with Harley sometimes, but to want to kill his own child was just heartless. Though honestly, she wouldn't put something like that past him.

Harley began to fully sob now, unsteadily, and Ivy chided herself for removing her hand and pulled her into a full embrace, petting her wet hair as her head fell against her shoulder. She hiccupped, and her friend shushed her, continuing her best to comfort her despite the inner turmoil and anger she felt.

"I-is this t-the part you tell me it's going to be o-okay and he can't h-hurt me again?" Harley hiccupped again in-between sobs, her injured hand grabbing at the fabric of her friend's shirt out of idleness.

Ivy's lips tightened. She didn't like it when people had told her those things as a kid, as an adult now, and now she that had had a chance to see the world for what it was, that saying irked her to the extreme. It felt like such a lie when she knew for a fact that things were more than likely not going to be okay.

"Hell no." She kept her hand firmly against her head, caressing it. "Sorry if I don't want to sugarcoat it for you Harley, but I can't lie to you either. You've been hurt enough today."

Brutally honest, as always. Harley hadn't expected that kind of comfort from Ivy in the slightest, but hearing that it was going to be okay was a definite need on her list of needs right now. She stopped sobbing, but her hiccups refused to subside.

"It just...really hurts, Red..."

"I know."

They both sat there for a good ten minutes before Ivy finally pushed Harley off her shoulder, with gentleness however, and grabbed her by the hand.

"You're not going back are you?" she asked, with a dead seriousness to her voice. Immediately, although with a hurt expression, Harley lowered her head, shaking it slowly.

"N-no... I can't. He kicked me out after I stood up to him..." she whispered.

Well, if that hadn't been enough to put the icing on her cake, Ivy didn't know what would. As if beating her up hadn't been enough, he'd just been determined to kick her out and hope she'd succumb to the streets? What a bastard, what a sick, twisted...

"Why...that son of a bitch..." she muttered, squeezing Harley's hand.

Harley winced at the pressure from her hand and slipped it out. Ivy noticed the way she was grabbing her wrist and almost felt bad for almost having possibly made another injury worse than it had already been.

"Sorry...guess I got carried away for a second." she apologized. "But when I thought about that asshole I--god, god damn it. I'm going to kill him, I'm going to fucking kill him, Harley! How could he treat you that way?! First almost beating you and your child to death and then just--kicking you out like you're some kind of stray animal? Who the hell does he think is?"

"Pammy, please!" Not that Harley didn't agree he might deserve a slapping around for his actions, she couldn't bear the idea of actually seeing him dead, even though it'd probably make Ivy feel better. She grabbed at her friend's arm, pleading. "Please don't try anything! Really, he said he didn't want to hurt me, honest! He just wanted to--"

"Murder your fucking baby, yeah, I know." Ivy looked away, growling under her breath. "I know, damn it. But how is that not hurting you? I mean, look at you, you can barely stand!"

"I'm not that bad off--"

"Maybe not, but you could have been." Ivy took Harley's hand back and was careful to clasp it more carefully this time. "I can't make any promises, Harley, I really can't. If I even see him--god, he'd better hope there's a special spot in hell for him."

"No, don't! I--" Harley's voice faded. "I... please, Red, he just gets angry sometimes...I didn't...just please don't hurt him. He just needs some time to cool off, really. He'll warm up to the idea of a baby in time, just wait."

"And if he doesn't? Is it going to be a double funeral for both you and your kid?"

Those words did make her think. She did have a point, as much as Harley didn't want to even fathom the idea.  All the way over here, the whole walk, the ride, she'd tried to convince herself that by the time nine months had passed, by the time the baby was born, he would be cooled off by then. That'd he feel better about the whole thing after thinking about it, but Ivy's words really hit her.

The idea of a baby-shaped coffin did not seem appealing to her at all. Not in the slightest.

Would it really come to that if she even dared to come back?

She did not reply. Ivy realized that had a probably been a harsh choice of words, but she had to get the point across. Dang it if she didn't like the Joker, but he was definitely on her blacklist now at this rate. What Harley needed was a dose of reality, and Ivy would be darned if her friend was going to be stuck in a controlling relationship like that for her entire life.

The only noise in the room was the rain from outside. A quiet moment passed, before Ivy released Harley's hand slowly, studying the broken bones in her wrist that she was angry at herself for not noticing straight away.

"I think this is beyond anything I can do with a first aid kit..." she mumbled, careful not to press to hard. She released it entirely. "I'll get some ice for it before it swells, but you should really get this checked out when you get the chance. It looks sprained."

"It feels broken, to be honest."

"Then all the more reason to get it checked out." Ivy pushed herself off the couch and returned shortly with an icepack and cloth. She wrapped these around Harley's wrist and helped her stand to her feet. "I'm sorry I'm not that kind of doctor, but you should see an actual one before this thing gets worse."

"Are you frickin' nuts, Red? I can't go see a doctor, I'm a wanted criminal!" Harley had to protest, even though her wrist _really fucking hurt._ It'd be smart to get it checked out, yes, but waltzing into a clinic with her dyed-hair and tattoos would land her in a jail cell, no doubt. Those things would give her away instantly.

"Common sense, Harley." Ivy crossed her arms, huffing. "Just wear baggy clothes and a wig or something, maybe even wear glasses. It's called a disguise, the last time I checked."

Oh. That made sense.

Flushing red, Harley nodded sheepishly.

"O-oh, yeah. Sure. I can do that."

"See? Not that hard." Ivy's eyes went down to the bruise on Harley's stomach, noting the purple and yellow colors intertwining. She frowned. "Oh...yeah, maybe you should make sure the baby's okay while you're at it...how hard did he hit you, exactly?"

She didn't want to remember, but it'd just been once. There was no bleeding yet, that was a good sign, right? She doubted one hit had been enough to kill it, despite how painful of a hit it was.

"Pretty hard..." she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "I don’t know...it really hurt, but I don't think...you know, that was enough...I'm not bleedin' or anything yet, I don't think."

"Well I don't see any blood right now, that's good." Ivy picked up the first aid kit, clicking it shut. "Just keep checking though."

She turned and headed back to the kitchen.

"Now, I'm just going to put this up and go run a bath for you, 'cause, let's face it, your skin feels like I'm touching ice. How does that sound?"

Harley tugged the towel back around her shoulders, smiling back at her friend.

"It sounds perfect, Pammy...thanks."

Minutes later, Ivy had filled the tub with warm water and helped Harley change out of her wet clothes, and step into the water. She'd scanned her over for more injuries, but thankfully no more were to be found anywhere. Once she made sure Harley was settled, she draped the wet clothes over her arm and began to head out of the room.

"I'm just going to go find something dry for you to change into, I'll be right out here if you need anything." she called as she shut the door. Harley glanced over as the door clicked shut, only nodding, and then returned her focus to rubbing soap on the scrub brush. She flexed her toes in the water, scrubbing at her legs first and moving up to her stomach. She stopped at the bruise, but she looked past that, for perhaps, the first time today.

Instead of touching her bruise, she put her hand on her still-flat stomach, just in no particular spot this time. Butterflies, maybe, fluttered somewhere in her, and despite the pain she felt, there was a small glimmer of hope, somewhere, somehow, she felt it too...

"Don't worry, kid..." she whispered. "I don't know how Daddy feels about you, but I promise...he didn't mean what he did. He loves Mommy and I'm sure he'd love you too if he just...tried..."

She hesitated, her heart aching at the thought of her puddin'.  All alone, at the penthouse, by himself...what was he thinking right now, she wondered. Was he even feeling anything? Regret, anger still? No doubt he'd broken something else, by now.

Just add that to the list of things she didn't want to think about right now. Right now, her mind went back to the child growing inside of her. His child. Their child. Regardless, if he could never bring himself to care...at least she'd still have a part of him with her.

"But I love you though, I already love you. And I'm not going to fail you, I promise."

* * *

 

Harley's assumptions about something else having been broken were correct, was the mirror above the right dresser was, by now, shattered into about seven pieces. No lights were on in the room, and it was dark, as it thundered and crashed lightening outside.

The Joker sat on the floor, up against the wall. He almost looked like a rag doll with how he sat, his arms resting by his side limply, yet his fingers tapped against the wooden floor. They were the only things that moved. His knuckles were bleeding, had been bleeding in fact, for ten minutes now, but he didn't even seem to notice or care. The pain was welcome to him, distracting him from the pain in his mind and chest. That kind of pain was a nuisance on his life, not the pain he liked at all.

The broken cane lay in pieces next to him, but his eyes were transfixed on seemingly nothing...an empty, hollow, lifeless look on his face, in his eyes.

He'd tried...he'd honest to God, tried, to stop thinking, to just short his mind out and be done with any and everything he was feeling, but he couldn't. His own words and actions replayed like a movie in his mind, in front of him, in hallucinations.

_"M-M-i--stah J--I c-ca-ca--n't br-eathe!"_

_But he ignored her, all the ferocity was back on his face and he was growling, pushing her further into the mattress._

_"You...no, you're not upset. You planned this, didn't you? Don't stand there and tell me otherwise! Don't lie to me!" he bellowed. "Daddy doesn't like it when you lie, Harley!"_

His fingers stopped tapping the floor.

_"Don't...don't...please..." she whimpered, pressing her hand even tighter against her stomach. Joker stopped in front of her, his mouth now twisted into a snarl. He lifted the cane, showing off the knob at the top._

_"Move your arm...." he muttered._

_"What?" Harley wrapped her entire arm around her midsection now. "N-no, no, you're not gonna hurt it! Please!"_

_"I said move your arm!" he barked. "I don't...I don't want to hurt you, Harley...just...get rid of that thing in you...I promise I'll make it quick, just move your arm..."_

_"No! Please!" Her voice cracked, tears spilling out from her eyes. "Don't you dare!"_

Damn it...damn it, damn it...

He curled his fists, blood squeezing through his fingers. His lips curled as he snarled, but his expression morphed into one of shock as a different memory played in front of him. He didn't see the fancy furniture, or the broken vase on the ground in front of him...he didn't see the pain he had caused his queen, he only saw himself...a different version that he'd sworn had died a long time ago.

_"W-wha-what do you mean...she's dead--" A young brown haired man stood trembling in front of the doctors, his face drained of all and any color. "She can't be--no, no, how? How?"_

_"Electrocution, Mr. Kerr. We're not sure how yet...but..." One of the doctors sighed, bowing his head. He reached out, placing his hand on the other man's shoulder before giving him a sympathetic look. "We weren't able to do anything, it was too late. I'm sorry."_

_"Wha..." The brown-haired man swallowed hard. "What about...our baby? She was pregnant--she was seven months pregnant, doctor, don't tell me..."_

_The silence from the doctor was all he needed to hear. He turned his back, his face contorting angrily, in sorrow, in anguish. His hands gripped at his hair in fistfuls, as his lower lip shook, tears stinging his eyes._

_"No...no no, no... this can't be happening. This can't--it can't!  I was--it was supposed to get better! It was supposed to get better!"_

Those words faded out, into Joker's ears. The scene faded away, and he was back at staring at the mess of a room. Lightening flashed again, thunder cracking. He saw nothing now, only feeling a mixture of confusion and shock.

What _had_ he just seen? What was that?  _Who_ was that? Him? He couldn't remember. He hadn't remembered anything since...since that night...right? Not after all the shock therapy, the shots...he couldn't remember. He'd never tried since that part of him was dead.

But why was he seeing it now, of all times, when he'd just let his queen slip through his fingers? And why...because...because he didn't want their own kid? Because he was heartless?

Yes, maybe. Exactly. What did it matter, he didn't care. He'd thought of calling Harley, or even going out to find her, bring her home...not apologize, obviously. But the more he thought, the more he figured she wouldn't want to see him, his face...not after what he did. How could she forgive that, when he'd never been that violent with her before?

Sure, he'd slap her around once or twice...but...

She hadn't been pregnant then. He hadn't known he was going to be a father then...and the idea...the very idea of being a father was probably the only thing that terrified him to the point of where he didn't know how to act but with violence. _But why?_

 _Guns didn't scare him. Fire didn't scare him. Heck, even death didn't scare him_.

Yet...why did the idea of having his **_own_** child terrify him?

His fists now shaking, he screamed out, hitting the dresser beside him several times until he was sure he'd injured his other set of knuckles. It was blinding pain, but it was anything to distract his mind.

God-damnit...he was such an idiot...what had he done? What could he do now?

_Laugh._

That was apparently all he could do, his head hitting the wall as he huffed from his little excursion. A smile twitched at his lips, a strained, weak smile, but he kept it on regardless, starting out slowly cackling. Cackles transitioned to small laughter...before the entire room was filled with his loud, harsh, pain-filled laughter.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

"Huuhh..." Harley grunted as she turned over on her side, her non-injured hand clawing at the empty side of the bed. When her hand was met with nothing but sheets and mattress, she grunted again and grabbed at the pillow, pulling it into her arms. These actions would have looked awkward had she not been asleep, as it was obvious she was more than likely dreaming.

It was debatable what time it actually was right now; the rain from last night had ceased, yet dark clouds still hung over the city in an ominous manner, threatening to bust loose again. If anyone had coined the phrase "It's never sunny in Gotham", it was especially true in this case, mostly in the literal sense this time.

Maybe the dark clouds were the reason Harley had not gotten up yet, aside from being asleep still, obviously. She clung onto the pillow, still resting on her right side. Parts of her face twitched, as she muttered something incoherent and flipped onto her back. Her arm swung at the empty side of the bed once again, and she let it fall on the mattress this time. Air from the vent tickled at her face from above the bed.  She took this as the individual in her dream and laid back on her back.

"Mm... no... five more minutes..." she mumbled, pulling the pillow in her arms up over her head. As if to coincide with the first rain drop that hit her window, she woke, her eyes slowly opening as she sat up in bed.

"Mister J, seriously I don't want to get up right now--"

Her words fell short as she took in her surroundings. Instead of waking up to their large penthouse bedroom as she'd so hoped, she instead found her eyes scanning over a white-walled room with paintings of plants on the wall. The blankets covering her were a combination of green and white as well, and it soon dawned on her that she was still in Ivy's apartment.

Part of her didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed, so she instead yawned and rubbed the back of her neck, her hair messily falling to the side of her head. She couldn't figure out what time it was exactly, no thanks to the dark clouds outside, but she felt like she'd slept for ten years, or, to be fair, been in a coma for that long.

Everything that had happened yesterday didn't feel real, considering how fast it had happened, and she'd almost hoped it had been a bad dream, and she'd wake up back in bed, still sick, just sick...not pregnant...and Joker would be there, that they'd be entwined with one another, in a warm, tight embrace...

But no. If not waking up in Ivy's apartment didn't prove it wasn't a dream, then the fact that her arm was still bandaged might. That, and the ice pack that been wrapped onto her wrist had melted, proof of that being in the form of a puddle now staining the sheets.

Harley had moved her hand in disgust and just tossed the melted bag to the side, before grabbing onto her wrist. It still hurt, but not quite as bad as yesterday. The ice had been a good call, but there wasn’t no doubt some bones were broken. Good thing that wasn't the hand she used the most, at least.

The pain from her wrist could also be another supporting factor in why last night had definitely not been a dream. But that's all it felt like, like a bad nightmare. A scarily realistic nightmare at that. How she wished that were the case, and part of her wished she was back at the penthouse right now instead of here. She should be at his side, and he should be at hers.

Instead, where were they at? What was he even doing, and how?

The thought had plagued her the whole night and prevented her from getting any sleep until 3 AM hit, but now it just nagged at her like an annoying mosquito. Not too much of a bother, but a bother still. Ivy had told her she just had to accept it; if Mister J was going to act that way, then he had no right to call himself that baby's father. Just it's sperm donor. A harsh thing to say, yes, but regardless...perhaps, true.

The way he'd acted, spoke, there was no doubt he would've tried killing it again if she'd wormed her way into staying. But it was a thing of the past, no matter how recent it had been. All she could now was try to move past it, she supposed.

Once she'd found the alarm clock, she could see it was about 10:00 in the morning. As much it sounded more inviting to lay back down and go back to sleep, she knew she should probably go ahead and get up. Ivy was no doubt awake already and waiting for her to get up, as she swore she could have smelled something cooking. A small scent, cinnamon maybe...probably pancakes.

The covers were pulled back and she stepped out of bed, barefoot, not even bothering to slip on the pair of slippers on the floor, and padded across the carpet, and onto the wood, and slipped out into the hallway. Her appearance was quite bedraggled, what with her unbrushed hair and the baggy clothes she'd been lended, and every trace of makeup from the previous day was gone. The exact opposite of put-together, as was her mind.

She covered her mouth as another yawn escaped, and entered the kitchen, where Ivy was seated at the table with a mug next to her. She'd been reading a book but looked up when she heard Harley's yawns, smirking up at her as she approached.

"Well look who's finally up." she remarked. "Did someone leave a rock on your coffin again?"

Harley's shoulders drooped as she let out another yawn, and she smiled, extending her middle finger towards her friend. Ivy made a pretend look of shock and picked her drink up.

"Ouch, is that the thanks I get for letting you sleep in my bed?" She took a sip, while Harley headed over to the counter where the coffee pot resided. "Which, I don't let just anyone do, by the way. You're like, the one exception."

"Aw, so I'm special then?"

"Don't push your luck."

Harley snickered before getting a mug down from the cabinet. It felt nice to be joking around, despite what had just happened the other night. If anything, she was happy to have at least one person on her side in all of this. Two counting the baby, maybe.

"Hey, I told you didn't have to sleep on the couch, I wouldn't have minded it." she said, pouring some coffee into her mug.

"I would." Ivy sat down her drink and leafed through a page in her book.

"Red, I've slept in worse places before, trust me. I didn't even get a bed in prison, they made me sleep on the floor." Harley pointed out, holding the mug in her one good hand. "Well, at least until after--huh, you know. The whole saving the world thing, then they owed me."

"But you weren't pregnant then, Harley. I wasn't going to have you sleeping on a couch knowing that." Ivy stated, turning another page in her book. "Thankfully I'm not the one sleeping for two here, and God knows you needed that space more than I did."

"Oh, so if I wasn't pregnant you'd have left me on the couch?"

"It's possible. That couch wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, you know."

"Then why couldn't you have just shared the bed with me? I could have used the company." Harley moped, bringing her mug to her lips. Ivy snorted and pulled a bookmark into place before shutting her book.

"Share a bed with you? Hell no, not knowing how much you like to steal all the blankets. I'm not about to go through that again." She pushed her book aside and was about to take another sip from her own mug, but caught sight of Harley taking one from hers.  She gasped and jumped from her seat.

"What are you doing? Don't drink that!" she scolded, charging over and snatching the mug from her friend's hand. Harley gave a small shriek, holding her arms up in protest.

"Hey, hey, sorry! I needed a little pick me up, is that so bad? I slept really roughly last night!" She tried to take the mug back but Ivy poured its contents into the sink, then tossed it in with the other dirty dishes. She shot a glare Harley's way.

"That had caffeine in it, you idiot! You can't drink caffeine when you're pregnant!" she spouted off. "I thought you knew that--sorry, sorry for scaring you like that. But seriously, didn't you know that?"

Apparently not. It's not like she planned on getting pregnant any time soon, thoughts like that had never occurred to her before, and it wasn't like she'd had time to research on anything like that considering that she'd only just found out about being pregnant the other day.

"Well--gee, no, sorry." She dropped her hands down. "God, this is going to suck...does this mean no espresso for eight months? I don't know if I could handle that."

"Not exactly, just make sure you don't get any with caffeine in them."

"Pammy, please." Harley cracked a chuckle and crossed her arms. "If there's no caffeine in it, then what's the point in drinkin' it? Nah, I-I'd rather make the sacrifice and go without. I can get my kicks somewhere else."

"Well I guess that's not a bad alternative." Ivy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She reached out and grabbed her friend by the shoulders. "Just promise me you'll read up on this stuff before you try anything else?"

Harley nodded. It'd be smarter, without a doubt. She might have gone through six years of medical school but any knowledge she'd had of any other subject had probably fled her mind the moment she took that plunge into the chemicals. The last thing she needed was to hurt her baby herself, when that's exactly what she was trying not to do.

Ivy looked relieved and squeezed her friend's shoulders.

"Okay, good. Good." She let her go, and headed back over to pick up her own mug from the counter. "Now I'm just going to finish this...and then I'll see about getting some breakfast ready. In the meantime, you can go ahead and get dressed, I took the liberty of getting you some new things while you were asleep."

"Ooh! Really?" Harley squealed, and would have no doubt clasped her hands together had one of them not been aching still. "Thank you, Pammy, I really appreciate it!"

"Don't thank me yet." Ivy took down a pancake mix from the cabinet as she finished off her drink, and shot another smirk her friend's way. "You haven't even _seen_ the clothes I got you."

\--

"Gee Red, I dunno about this..."

Twenty minutes later, Harley was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at someone who she was sure was her...but it was hard to tell now. If it weren't for the small heart tattoo still on her face, she was sure she wouldn't have recognized herself. That, and her hair, but it wouldn't be that way for long no thanks to the black wig placed on the counter.

Ivy was in the kitchen, but thanks to the bathroom being nearby, could hear Harley's complaints loud and clear, and just sighed.

"Trust me, Harley, you'll thank me later. Now will you just come out of there before these pancakes get cold?"

Yes, the pancakes had been done long before Harley had finished getting changed, but she couldn't get over what a completely different person she looked like now. Gone were the comfy pajamas and on was the ugly grey shirt and baggy jeans. It wasn't like jeans were a problem or anything, but baggy ones? Skinny jeans, yes, Harley could deal with that, but she didn't like feeling so loose.

When she'd retrieved the bags of clothes that Ivy had bought for her, she'd been absolutely dismayed to find a bunch of dull-colored, plain clothes in them. Baggy sweatshirts, grey t-shirts, plain old jeans...the exact opposite of what she was used to dressing in.

None of these clothes screamed her, at all. Perhaps that's why Ivy had gotten them.

All she knew is that she didn't like them, but what other choice did she have? It wasn't like she'd been given a chance to pack her own things, and considering her current position, now would not be a good time to be recognized. She'd no doubt be thrown back in Arkham Asylum, heaven forbid if she'd be sent back to Belle Reve. She shuddered at the thought of those creeps finding out she was pregnant, no doubt she'd be an open target then.

The clothes had been one thing to put on, but she couldn’t bring herself to put the wig on. It'd been a debate when she first found it, and she hadn't liked the idea of completely abandoning anything familiar about herself. Ivy had said it was the only other option other than cutting off the dyed parts of her hair, which she absolutely did _not_ want to do.

And then there were the glasses.

Obviously, she didn't have her old ones anymore, and instead Ivy had lended her a pair she'd worn before the incident that gave her abilities. It wasn't like she'd needed them anymore, and after her own incident, Harley definitely didn't need them anymore, but it'd be a safer move to wear them. Upon putting them on, she could see a glimpse of her old self for just a second, the quiet, reserved Harleen...never having fun, no friends...she liked being the opposite and didn't want the reminder of what she used to be.

But again, she couldn't afford to be recognized. So, on went the glasses, and after another moment of debate, she put the wig on. In that instant, it was almost like she'd disappeared as she looked back up into the mirror, not even recognizing the face staring back at her. It was so weird...god, she didn't think she liked it, not one bit.

She looked just like any average citizen of Gotham...which was not a good thing in her opinion. But she had to tell herself it was for the best reasons, especially if she didn't want any suspicion. It was for the best.

_It was for the baby._

Darn it if she didn't want to go back to being someone's little chew toy, she had a kid to protect now. She had a good damn reason, and she'd just have to suck it up and look as average as possible...ugh.

Releasing the breath, she'd held in upon looking at her appearance, she quickly splashed some concealer over her facial tattoos and left the bathroom, halting before entering the kitchen. She peeked around the corner, seeing Ivy at the table, the pancakes sitting in front of her. She didn't look to have eaten anything yet, and looked rather impatient. Harley bit her lip, she did feel a little bad for keeping her waiting, but she'd been in too much shock over her new look that she'd needed a bit of time.

So, she entered, slowly, with a meek smile on her face. Ivy looked up, Harley giving mock jazz hands as she presented herself.

"Tada!" Her voice didn't come out as enthusiastic as she'd wanted it to, but Ivy made no comment on it. She just looked her friend up and down and pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow. She held her finger up, making a spinning motion with it. Harley made a confused expression, but did so, turning around fully in her new apparel.

"Perfect!" She heard Ivy quip before turning back to face her again. "Can't even tell it's you from behind or from the front, I think you're good to go. Now sit down and eat, I went ahead and reheated these since you were taking so long."

Harley shuffled over to the table and sat down.

"Man, I dunno if I feel like eatin' after seeing myself...I feel so...blah." she mumbled, reaching to grab her plate.

"Don't be that way, Harley. It's not like you have to dress like that all the time, only when you're in public." Ivy stabbed her fork in several pancakes and dropped them onto Harley's plate. "Besides, you have to eat. You're not the only one who's hungry right now, and I don't mean me."

"Right, cuz I'm doin' everything for two now, I know that, Red." She only poked at her pancakes as Ivy poured syrup on hers. "But my stomach's been doin' the flips all mornin', I don't know if I'll be able to keep anything down."

"Well you better, otherwise I'd have wasted fifteen minutes making these things."

"Hey, I'll try, okay?" Harley took the syrup as Ivy passed it over to her, but didn't pour it just yet. She instead set the bottle down, feeling her mouth go dry. Now that she thought about it, the kind of flips her stomach had been doing might not exactly be the pregnancy related ones...there was a stronger chance it was just her nerves getting the better of her.

But she didn't say this to her friend, considering how much she'd done already. Ivy only had contempt for one person in this city, in fact the two had not really gotten along the first time they'd met. She'd only warmed up this way over time, and she didn't want to go back to square one again because of her being so needy.  Giving her own bed to sleep in, buying her new clothes, ugly ones albeit, and then breakfast? It was nice, but she didn't want to be entirely dependent on her friend when she knew she had her own life to live.

No, she'd thought about this while trying to sleep, amongst the other thoughts, she knew she couldn't stay. 

As much it'd be an easier option, she just couldn’t, not when she ran the risk of Joker finding out where she was and seeking her out, if he even cared to. Though every part of her ached to see him again, the image of his angry face and the way he'd struck her with that damn cane...no, it was too soon. He hadn't changed his mind yet and would no doubt try killing the baby again if she tried coming back.

"Harley?"

She was alerted by the snapping of Ivy's fingers, blinking quickly and noticing that she'd had the syrup bottle tipped over and overflowing her plate. Her pancakes were completely saturated, and she gasped, setting the bottle down and feeling her cheeks go hot. Ivy looked at her with concern, leaning forward in her seat.

"Where did you go?" she questioned. "I was trying to ask you something but you weren't responding. Is something wrong?"

"'C-course not." Harley mustered a grin, as earnest as she could, and picked her fork back up. "I was just thinkin', that's all."

"Huh..." Ivy eyed her dubiously but shrugged, and went back to consuming the bit of pancake on her fork. Harley nibbled at her own pancake, but barely ate any of it. She kept her head down, but allowed her eyes to wander over to Ivy out of curiosity.

"So... what were you tryin' to ask me?"

"Oh, just about when you wanted to leave. You know, to see a doctor?" Ivy swallowed her food and motioned to Harley's hand with her fork. "I haven't set up an appointment yet since I didn't know what name to put you under...since, obviously you can't go in as Harley Quinn."

"Obviously not."

"Yeah. So..." Ivy fiddled with her pancake before tearing off another piece. "When did you want to go? I'm good after breakfast, if you wanted to leave then, I don't really have anything else to do until this afternoon."

Harley almost wanted to ask what exactly it was Ivy had to do that afternoon, but she decided it'd be better not to pry and just shifted her gaze back to her plate. She sucked in her lip, then shrugged.

"Um...I--I dunno, I guess after breakfast since you're gonna be busy..." Her finger poked at the sticky pancake at the edge of her plate. "I wanna get this done and over with anyways. My wrist feels like a hyena took a chomp outta it."

"Okay then, that works." Ivy finished off her breakfast and pushed the plate back, brushing crumbs off her hands. "I'll just go set you up then, and you, eat. I don't wanna see any food on your plate when I get back."

Harley snorted.

"Okay, _mother."_ Ivy snapped her head back at her friend's comment, as she had already gotten up from her seat. She rolled her eyes and picked up her plate.

"Hardee-har." Her dishes were thrown into the sink and she walked to the living room to retrieve the phone. As Harley attempted to take a nibble of her own breakfast, Ivy came back in, carrying the phone with her.

"Hey, wait, I forgot to ask. What name did you want me to use for you?"

"Uh..." Shoot, good question. She couldn't exactly go under Harleen Quinzel, could she? Everybody knew who she was, what her story was, and how she was Harley Quinn, now. Going under her former alias would probably not be the smartest idea, but did she know of any other possible choices? Any faux names that wouldn't sound fake...any in the repressed memories of her mind, maybe...

Wait. Yes. She had one in mind. One that was close to her old name, but not sketchy enough to be suspected. Her mother's name.

"Lena. Just tell them my name is Lena Sorkin."

\--

A black van stood parked across several streets from Ivy's apartment, not too conspicuous to be suspected, but it wasn't like anyone was really paying attention to it since it was amongst a bunch of other vehicles. It was still cloudy and windy outside, and people were walking the streets like a bunch of ants. Every vehicle save for that black van was unoccupied, and in that black van sat none other than the Joker's henchman, Johnny Frost.

He sat in the front seat, having been watching the building since 7 that morning. Possibly, he was risking himself being out here considering his boss was not fully aware he was gone. He'd heard the fight between the clown prince and his queen the other night, in fact all the henchman had been quite aware of it despite being a floor down from the couple. It'd sounded nasty, and had apparently ended nasty since by the time Frost had been brave enough to investigate, he'd only found the door locked, but hadn't dared enter then either when he'd heard the noises of glass smashing. It was better to leave his boss alone when he was mad, a fact he'd learned the hard way in the past.

He hadn't dared to stay long after that, but it was apparent nothing good had gone down, and this had been different from their usual bickering. Though he hadn't seen Joker since before then, he knew how that man could get when Harley was gone, and had taken it upon himself to find out her whereabouts. It was debatable if he'd want to know anything about her well-being considering how long she'd been gone. She'd usually just be gone the whole night and come back in the morning, hence why he was waiting outside now.

Frost had been around Harley long enough to know who she associated with, and where she went when she and Joker had their small fights. He'd nearly nodded off, having to make his coffee from that morning last enough to keep him awake, but he quickly alerted upon seeing two women exiting from the apartment building together. Leaning forward, he squinted to get a better look, and could only recognize the red-headed woman as Ivy. A black-haired woman was right next to her, but as she turned her face, it was the glasses that struck a memory in him.

That fateful night when Joker escaped from Arkham, he remembered Harley then, without the pale skin, without the tattoos, the dyed hair...he remembered how she looked with glasses. What he couldn't place was why she was dressed the way she was, but it didn't matter. By the way she acted, she didn't seem to be heading in the direction he knew the club was, but down to a parking garage instead, Ivy walking with her.

They both appeared to be talking, and neither one of them noticed the black van.

Luck on his side, he guessed. He fell back, and let what he just saw process in his mind. What _had_ she and Joker fought about, exactly? What had even happened, dare he question it.  Whatever it was, and by the way she looked, he could only piece together she wasn't coming back anytime soon.

His phone buzzed and he quickly picked it up, sighing at the sight of a text message on his screen.

**_"WHERE ARE YOU?"_ **

So, Joker had noticed he was gone. Well, this wasn't going to bode well for him when he got back.

Frost quickly typed his reply, and shoved his phone aside before turning the key in the ignition. The tires screeched on the van and the vehicle took off past the parking garage where Harley and Ivy were also now pulling out in their car.

By the time he made it back to the penthouse, he'd walked straight to the bedroom, not seeing signs of any other henchmen hanging around. He didn't blame them, especially when he found the door was still locked. That meant nothing good.

He tugged at the door, it refusing to budge. Shaking his head, he rapped at the door. There was a small click as it unlocked, and creaked open. Not sure what to make of this, Frost poked his head in before entering. Joker was nowhere to be found, just a huge mess of torn up bedsheets and broken furniture. Slowly, he entered, vase pieces crunching underneath his shoes.

"Boss?" he called out, cautiously, and a slow murmur turned his attention to the side of the room.

"...fuck, fuck, damn it..." There was his boss, slumped against the wall like a doll, with his arms by his side. His phone hung limply in one hand, which Frost noticed was bleeding. Alarm crossed his face and he immediately darted over. As he got closer, he could see quite the dead look in Joker's eyes, a look he knew meant nothing was even remotely intact in his mind right now. That also meant nothing good.

"Mister J... boss, hey." Frost knelt beside him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. In a daze, Joker's head only flopped around, and the other man found himself having to grab his chin to face him. He snapped his fingers again, and Joker startled, giving off a small hiss as he grabbed at Frost's arm like a scared cat. Frost pried it loose, holding his hand up in defense.

"Whoa, easy. Just me." Joker looked half-awake for a moment, then just groaned as his head fell back again against the wall with a thud.

"Took you long enough to get here..." he muttered.

"Sorry, boss. I had something else...uh, to take care of on the way."

No reply from Joker, who only let his head flop around the wall again. He softly muttered something incohereable under his breath, and tossed his phone to the floor. Frost looked at it, then noticed Joker had had his contacts list up. Apparently, it looked like he'd tried calling Harley several times, but she hadn't picked up. Normally this wouldn't concern him, but after he'd seen what he'd seen, he did feel a slight prick of concern at this.

His mind went back to the fact that his boss’s hand was currently bleeding, probably had been for the longest time. It was hard to tell if the color had drained from his hand yet, but he'd obviously lost a lot of blood if was acting this out of it. That, or he was just really distressed over what had happened...whatever had happened. It'd been severe enough to cause another mental break, that was for sure.

"Um, not that it's any of my business, Mister J, but your hand..." Frost hesitated, and Joker's eyes shifted over to him, then down at his bloody hand. His caps appeared as a grin cracked across his face, and he held it up, snorting.

"Huh, how about that." He turned the hand back and forth if it were nothing, grinning. He looked directly at Frost. "I wonder how that happened?"

The broken mirror, he didn't even need to ask.

"Boss, c'mon. You should have taken care of that." Frost grabbed his hand, and his eyes scanned for anything to nearby to stop the bleeding. The only thing near him was a torn piece of bedsheet, so he quickly picked it up and wrapped it around the Joker's hand, who only curled his mouth out of annoyance at being treated like a child. He jerked his hand and huffed, not until Frost had finished with it.

"Don't talk me to like that, if it bothered me that badly do you think I would have let keep bleeding so much?" he snapped. "No just...god, I don't even know why I wanted you to come over. We weren't supposed to be anywhere right now, were we? No meetings...or uh, huh..."

"I don't think so sir, not until the heist next week..."

"Ah, right..." Right, the heist. The one he'd been looking forward to all month, Frost had never heard him shut up about it. He seemed so in a daze now though it was almost like he'd forgotten, and just now remembered.

"Boss...if I could ask you something..."

"Depends. Ask."

"What exactly...happened, last night?" Joker seemed to shake from his stupor at Frost's question. "I know it's probably known of my business, but you're never this out of it unless Batman's been taking a break or Miss Quinn is absent, which I'm guessing..."

"It _is_ none of your business." Joker's eyes almost completely rolled over as he glared at the other man. "What goes on between me and Miss Quinn is our own business, all you have to know is that she's probably not gonna be coming back anytime soon."

Frost's eyes widened slightly, but he expected an answer like that after seeing Harley dressed so differently.

"Dare I ask why, sir?"

At this, Joker's expression contorted, and he grumbled, grabbing at his hair with the hand that wasn't bleeding, yet severely bruised. A small snarl, and he released a low groan, his arms falling to his sides again.

"Because...I almost killed her baby, that's why." These words caused Frost's eyes to widen even more than they had. Baby...what...wait.

He didn't have to say anything, as Joker looked back up at him, the same contorted expression on his face.

"Yeah, it's what you're thinking. She's pregnant." he mumbled. "That's why she's been so sick, lately, if you care to know."

"Well, I..." Frost found himself at a loss for words. That explained a lot, that definitely explained a lot. He knew his boss had never been much of a family man, but Harley'd always seemed more on the soft side when it came to those things, for the most part. Joker eyed him and looked away.

"If you're thinking about congratulating me or something, don't bother." he grumbled.

"I wasn't planning on it, sir..."

"Good." Frost watched his boss as his focus went onto staring into the corner, the blank, angry deadness returning to his eyes. Dare he tell him he'd seen Harley earlier, that that's what he'd been doing before coming over here?

Screw it.

"Mister J, you know there's a reason I was late..." he started slowly, but Joker didn't seem to be paying attention. He stopped, but before he continued, was startled by his boss's voice.

"I don't really care, Johnny, you're here now--" He gave a weak hand wave before letting his hand drop back to the floor with a thud. "Does it matter?"

"Yeah, actually it does. Considering I was watching Miss Quinn and all."

At this, any blankness left the clown's face and he glared severely in Frost's direction. Almost like a wild animal, he launched forward, grabbing at the man's jacket like his hands were claws.

" _What?"_ he hissed. "I didn't tell you to do _that!_ What made you think you could prance around without my permission and--"

"Boss--"

"--and watch my queen, behind _my_ back! Are you forgetting who's in charge here, Johnny??!"

"Boss, calm down, damn it!" Frost cringed at his own shouting, he knew it wasn't good idea to snap at the Joker, of all people, but the man was practically tearing his jacket off by now. Thank goodness he hadn't had to resort to violence to get him off him, not that he would have succeeded, but this was enough to silence him. He fell back, huffing, and Frost straightened his jacket.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked. I know that now, but boss, I just thought...you know, since last time...you'd like to know she's fine." Joker's huffing began to quiet. "Miss Quinn is fine, she's with her friend right now, the red-head. Last I saw they were heading to a parking garage next to the apartment building they came out of."

He was silent.

"So... she’s with the plant..." He snorted. "Figures."

No one said anything for a good minute. Finally, Frost attempted to speak up, though hesitantly.

"So, um, since we know where she is, did you want to go and get her back?"

It was tempting, tempting enough that he almost wanted to consider it. But instead, he only shook his head. No no, he'd gone over this already...

"No...no, uh...not now. Not until she decides to get rid of that thing she's carrying." Joker pushed his knuckles against the floor, wincing slightly at the pain, but steadied himself regardless and pushed himself off the ground. "I refuse to have any part with that brat's life if she's gonna insist on having it."

"Sir, no offense, but that's your own kid you're talking about. Are you sure you don't--"

"Yes, I'm SURE!" Spit flew out of Joker's mouth as he practically spat the last word out, him having to grab onto the dresser to support himself as he almost fell over no thanks to the unbalance his anger caused him. "I made myself quite clear last night, she's not coming back. Not even if I wanted her to, not after that shit I pulled on her. It's just not..."

He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat.

"It's just not possible. Hell, Johnny, I doubt she even wants to come back right now herself. She probably can't even bear the thought of me now."

"That's dramatic to say, Mister J." Frost stepped back, as Joker walked past him and over to the bed. "Besides, we only just got her out of that shithole prison last month, isn't there a risk they're still looking for her?"

Ah, something he'd not thought of.

It was possible, that's why he'd kept her so close lately. No risks, he'd said...how hilarious, how he'd said that, and now he'd just risked everything by being a jackass and kicking her out.

Maybe it was just the risk he had to take. Especially if it meant he was going to be a dad...he just couldn't do that. He couldn't. No way.

_But you'd have an heir._

_You'd have someone to take over when you're gone, you'd have a legacy._

_Are you scared? Are you scared, is that it? You just don't think you'd be a good dad, do you? Not after your dad, not after her, not after--_

He gripped at the bed post, stumbling against it as the thoughts continued hitting him like bullets.

"Boss?"

Frost's voice only echoed, he couldn't hear anything but buzzing and swarms of taunting words. His feet felt like they were sinking into the floor.

_That's it, you're just terrified, aren't you? How about that, the big bad Joker, terrified of being a father. Sacrificing the chance to seal his legacy because he's just a coward, because he doesn't think he'd make a good dad, because he's too cracked up to--_

An abrupt scream, a pathetic attempt to silence the nagging voices, he then curled his fist and released the post, dropping to the bed suddenly. Frost, alarmed, darted over but took a step back as the Joker covered his head and screamed again, almost clawing at his head to make whatever was bothering him shut up. Several smacks to his head, and he rolled over on his back, huffing, puffing...then he closed his eyes.

"Just...leave, Frost." he muttered. "I need to be alone."

And that's exactly what Frost did. Quietly, he began to walk out of the room, sparing a momentary look back at Joker before he closed the door. He knew how his boss could be, and it was more than likely not smart to be leaving him alone when he was like this, given that he'd already broken a mirror. How long was it going to be before he broke himself even more than he already had?

And furthermore, if Harley really was pregnant...boy, would the goons from Belle Reve and Arkham have a blast if they found out.

 


	7. Chapter 7

It was clearer outside than earlier that morning, but some clouds still lingered. More people were outside now, some were still inside, however. Harley was one of those people, sitting on an examination seat in a room in the clinic, white walls and medical posters being her only company aside from some plastic plant. Ivy had opted to staying in the waiting room to wait for her, much to her dismay, and every moment she'd had with the doctors in here had been nerve-wracking, to say the least.

 She checked the clock on the wall; the time read 11:49. Her nerves felt twisted and she couldn't help but be nervous; not a feeling she felt often. Though having been a doctor in the past, she'd never been particularly fond of doctor's offices herself, she always found it to be a grim place full of people who were either dying or desperate for help. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been to see a doctor, it'd probably been years and there was no doubt she was long overdue for a physical. Not that she'd want to get one or anything, she didn't see the point in squinting at eye charts or having blood drawn from her finger, and probably would not have even bothered going if it weren't the fact she had a fractured wrist.

And the fact that she was pregnant, obviously.

Thankfully, no bleeding had occurred during the night or throughout the rest of the morning, which told her that the baby was just fine. But there was still a debatable question as to how fine it actually was considering its father had tried beating it to death, and it wouldn’t hurt to check, just to be safe, and not sorry. Even though she didn't like the idea of being here, but Ivy probably would have hauled her ass there regardless if she'd changed her mind or not.

It felt like being a nudist in public, actually. To be out, and have no one recognize you or cower in fear at the sight of you. It was a rather odd feeling and she wasn't sure if she liked it; she was so used to people reacting negatively to her, it was weird to be passed by like she was a normal everyday citizen.

_Hah, if they only knew. If they only knew..._

She couldn't say she was used to her new look yet, and on top of that the wig was making her head itch like hell. It would be nice to rip the damn thing off, but that would mean cutting off the dyed parts of hair. And there was no way Harley was going to do that when that was the last thing she had of her true self left aside from the tattoos, which were now concealed by the baggy clothes she was wearing

Some noises, footsteps, voices, came from outside in the hall. It mingled in with the tick-tocks from the clock on the wall. Annoying, frustrating noises...she shouldn't be here right now. She should be with him right now.

_He'll kill the baby, damn it. You can't go back._

Of course, the tiny voice of reason in her mind would say something like that. It only figured.

She looked down at the cast now on her wrist. A good portion of time had already been spent in the x-ray room, the doctors had discovered and told her what she'd already suspected; the x-rays had shown two bones had been broken in her wrist, she was lucky it wasn't worse. She'd just have to take it easy for the next week and not put too much strain on her hand, and instead would have to be bothered to constantly change a dirty bandage and strap back on the cast. It didn't sound fun, but it was doing that or risk it getting worse.

The next half of her checkup had consisted of the typical routines you'd expect from a yearly physical; her blood pressure had been tested, her vision had been checked, which turned out to be perfectly fine but she'd found herself having to fake difficulty reading to not cause any suspicion. Now she was just waiting for the fun part; the part where she'd get to see her baby for the first time.

It was 11:53 now. Where was that damn doctor at, lord knows she wasn't in a hurry to talk to another doctor but she was eager to see her baby. Not only to know if it was going to be okay, but to just see it...she'd never seen her first baby. She'd not even blinked, not once, or twice, and just...

No, no she had seen it...she just didn't want to remember.

Startling her from thought, the door clicked open and in walked an older woman, with greying-hair and a pleasant expression. She smiled and extended her hand to Harley upon approaching her.

"Lena, right? I'm Dr. Hoffman, nice to meet you." Her grip felt warm and gentle, nothing Harley was used to. She made herself smile the best she could and shook the doctor's hand.

"Likewise, doc."

The doctor released her hand, still smiling, and set down the clipboard she'd been carrying on the counter nearby. She noticed the cast on Harley's wrist and motioned to it.

"How's that hand feeling?" she asked. Harley glanced down at it, shrugging. It definitely didn't hurt as bad as it had the other night, that was for sure.

"I dunno..." she murmured. "Sore, I guess."

"Well that might not be my area of expertise, but I hope you plan on taking it easy with that thing." Dr. Hoffman sat down on a stool and pulled it closer to where Harley was sitting. "I remember doing a number on my own wrist back in high school...ugh, nasty sprain. Took weeks for it to heal."

She smiled again, Harley only nodding back at her. True she wasn't used to this kind of treatment, not after so much cruelty from the guards at Belle Reve, not after Joker's roughness, and she couldn't remember the last time she could feel ease at someone's kindness. She wasn't sure she liked it, and she was sure if the doctor knew who she really was, would definitely not be acting so casual with her right now. Instead there'd be some fear and hate involved, she knew it.

"Right, so," She looked to where Dr. Hoffman was flipping through some papers on her clipboard. "So, it looks like your blood and urine tests came back okay, so there's no problems there. Your eyesight's a little off, but that's understandable. But for the most part on your end, everything seems healthy so I wouldn't worry."

"Alright that's all well and good, doc, but I came here for my baby, not me." Harley clearly stated, almost surprised at the quietness of her own voice. Maybe she didn't want to risk her voice being recognized either, then again nobody had ever really heard her talk before. Wouldn't hurt to be safe, she'd rather that than be sorry. "So just tell me if it's okay or not."

"Well that's what we're about to find out, Lena. It's difficult to tell from your tests alone, but I've seen nothing so far that would indicate your baby's unwell." Dr. Hoffman sat down the clipboard in her lap, and folded her hands over it. "But we do have to go over the standard questions first though, I'm afraid. It's part of every checkup to ask this stuff, I'm sorry."

"O-of course..." Damn it, no more questions. Hadn't the nurses asked her enough already, she was tired of talking. She just wanted to know if her baby was okay, that was the only reason she even came. It was going to become hard to keep on a normal facade if this kept up, these people were lucky she didn't have her bat on her.

"Okay, first off..." The doctor crossed her legs. "Have you been experiencing any mood swings yet? Cravings? What about morning sickness?"

"Not sure, no, and yes." It was debatable to Harley if she actually had been having mood swings, no, it was harder to tell with her mentality. The morning sickness was a definite hell yes, though.

Dr. Hoffman wrote these things down.

"Alright, well mood swings aren't clear to make out at first, that's understandable. Now there hasn't been anything abnormal, has there? No bleeding?"

"Nope, been checkin' though."

"Good, good." Dr. Hoffman set her pen back in her pocket. “From what you put on her your form, you're in your first trimester, right? I just want to let you know there's still a risk for miscarriage this early on, so please try to be extra careful. Now, is this your first baby?"

_No._

"Y-yes, yeah. First one." A total and utter lie, she knew it. She had to bite down her teeth in order to smile earnestly, but luckily the other woman didn't seem to notice this or care. She only gave another smile towards Harley, putting her clipboard aside.

"Congrats then, I know the first one isn't normally easy, but trust me, it's all worth once you're holding them in your arms. I remember when my son was born, god, the labor was so bad." She sighed, shaking her head.  "You'd think me being a specialist I'd be more prepared, huh?"

Harley only nodded again, not sure what to say.

A small chuckle from the doctor, and she got up from her seat, walking over to the ultrasound device Harley had seen upon entering the room.

"I guess you never really can be too prepared." she remarked, picking up the tube of gel. "Want my advice, as a mother?"

"Um--" Harley almost shrugged but nodded for a third time. "Sure, knock yourself out."

"Just enjoy the time you have for yourself, soon enough it's gonna be hell." Dr. Hoffman squired the gel onto the wand, brushing off a loose bit with finger. "It's not so bad when they're little, but when they become teenagers...well, that's a different story."

God, Harley didn't even want to think about her baby being a teenager yet, if it even got the chance to make it to that stage. Though she did like the idea of a mini version of herself or Joker running around causing chaos, it was a charming thought.

"Hey, I get it. Enjoy the time you have by yourself and the time when they're young, I totally get it." A repeat of something she'd heard her gran say to her mother once. Nah, she'd never remembered her mother enjoying the times when her kids were young, in fact she'd seemed all too eager to get them all out of the house.

The doctor seemed to like this statement and her pleasant expression remained, as she turned on the machine and pulled it closer to the seat.

"I like your positivity, Lena. Try keeping it close, okay?" If only she knew. "Okay, now could you lie on your back please? And lift your shirt up a little bit?"

Harley hesitated, but did so. This was an exciting moment, yet also a scary one. On the one hand, she did want to see her baby so badly, but on the other hand, what if there really was something wrong with it? What if really had been hurt...no, positivity. She had to stay positive, not just for her own sake, but for the baby's.

She yelped as the cold gel was pressed onto her stomach, however, almost causing her to sit back up.

"Holy SHIT, that's cold!" she protested, causing Dr. Hoffman to laugh slightly.

"Sorry, sorry, guess I should have warned you." she apologized. She moved the stick around for a while, a blurry image surfacing on screen. "Let's see...hm... it’ll just be a minute, I'm getting the feeling this kid's kind of shy. I'm not seeing anything just yet..."

Harley's eyes shifted towards the screen, nibbling at her lower lip. It was kind of weird seeing the inside of herself like that, but a little alarming not seeing the baby yet. Oh god, what if she wasn’t pregnant and she'd just gone through all that hell for nothing? No, no no, she was overthinking. She was definitely pregnant; the morning sickness and late period had been early enough proof.

"Aha, there we go!" Her eyes widened at the sound of Dr. Hoffman's voice and she looked back at the screen, taken aback by the alien-like creature now displayed.

"Oh my god, what is that thing?" She had to blink several times, staring back at the odd image. Not that she'd expect the baby to look even remotely human yet, but she hadn't expected something freaky looking either.  "Is that supposed to be my baby?"

"Yes, Lena. I know it's a little freaky right now but I assure you it's perfectly normal." Dr. Hoffman moved the stick around a little more. "It's still growing, after all."

"Oh, right, yeah..."

"But aside from that...I'm not seeing anything abnormal. I think your baby is just fine for the time being. Nothing to be concerned about right now, at least..."

Anything else the doctor said was unheard of by Harley. She was staring at the image, at the moving image, unable to tear her eyes away from it. A little life...a little, human life, inside of her...her own, one that she'd created with her puddin'...she'd never, ever thought about how incredible it actually felt. Especially to be carrying his child.

If only he felt the same way.

But heck, she'd never felt this ecstatic, not since her chemical plunge. Not since being broke out of Belle Reve. It was new and exciting, something she'd never knew she'd yearned for.

Her own little clown.

\--

Ivy was still waiting out in the waiting room, reading some garden magazine while a generic news program played on the television set above her. Harley skipped out from behind a big pair of doors, carrying with her several pictures from the ultrasound. She approached her friend with a wide grin and nearly crashed into the table in the process, making enough noise to gain Ivy's attention. She looked up in time to have the pictures thrust into her viewpoint.

"Look at 'em, Red!" Harley's squeals were almost deafening, but Ivy had to smile at her friend's excitement. She looked at the photos before handing them back to her.

"Wow, cute. Looks just like it's father." she remarked.

"Hey now, don't be that way. The doctor said it's still developing after all." Harley insisted, shoving the pictures into her purse. "I can't wait to find out if it's going to be a boy or a girl, how long do I have to wait for that? Oh my god, what if I'm having twins? This is so exciting, Pammy!"

"Whoa, hey, calm down there, princess." Ivy stood up, setting her magazine back onto the round table in front of her. "Don't get too far ahead of yourself, there's still a lot you need to learn. Like what vitamins to take and all that shit."

"Oh, don't worry 'bout that." Harley waved her bound hand casually. "The doctor already gave me a whole list of things to get, I've got this handled. Seriously, how hard can havin' a baby be?"

"A lot harder than you think, especially given that you're...you know, you."

"Well gee, thanks for being so confident in me."

"I'm just stating the truth, Harley." Ivy crossed her arms. "You're going to need to be more prepared than you think. Becoming a parent requires a lot of change on your end."

"And you don't think I'll be able to manage?" Harley was almost offended at her friend's words, pouting. The thought of change and preparation had crossed her mind at least once, but her head would always fuzz whenever those thoughts entered. "Is that what you're sayin', Red?"

"Hey, no, I never said I thought that." The other woman huffed and placed a hand on her hip. "I just want to make sure you know what you're doing, you know? You don't wanna end up doing something you'll regret."

"Too late for that."

"Maybe, but you've gotta focus on what's important right now. And in this case, it's your baby." Ivy grabbed her friend by the shoulders, gently, but with sternness. "If you really think you'll be able to manage then I'll try not to doubt you, I know you've been able to take care of yourself before, but it's a little different this time around. It's not just you this time."

"Are you hearin' yourself right now, Pammy? God, my own mother didn't hover around me this much." Harley snorted, cracking a grin. "Look, if I managed to survive in that shit prison then I can manage in the city. Quit worryin' so much, okay?"

"I'll try not to but--"

"But nothin'! It's a new start, Red, and I'm gonna make the most of it." Harley shrugged away from Ivy's grip and slid her purse up her shoulder. "Now let's get somethin' to eat, I'm starved!"

She headed to the doors, but it took Ivy a moment to follow her. She stayed put near the chairs for a moment, then just shook her head and started heading out the door with her. It wasn't that she didn't admire Harley's optimism, she just worried for her well-being. There was definitely a chance the sickos from Belle Reve were still looking for her, and no doubt Arkham wouldn't mind having her back in their clutches. It was scary to think about that, especially what would happen if they knew she was pregnant.

Maybe that optimism would come in handy, maybe it'd keep her mind off those facts.

Outside, the pair was headed back to Ivy's car when a buzz sounded from her jacket pocket. She gasped and pulled her phone out, her face crumbling at the text message on screen. Harley had taken a compact mirror from her purse and was applying a coat of lipstick over her lips. She noticed her friend and looked over briefly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh..." Ivy turned her phone off, putting it back in her pocket. "Nothing, just turns out I'm late for my own appointment at the public gardens. We're gonna have to get something to go, then I'll just drop you off at my apartment since it's nearby. That sound okay?"

Harley lowered her mirror, hesitating. She clapped it shut, not putting it back in place just yet.

"Um, actually, I was meaning to talk to you about that, Red..."

"About what?"

"The apartment. Look, it's not that I'm not grateful for what you've done, believe me. It's just..." She half-shifted a shoulder, shoving her mirror back into her purse. "I don't think I can stay."

"Oh, Harley no, if this is because you think you're being a burden you're not--"

"That ain't it, Pam." Harley interrupted.  "I just can't stay, okay? You've done a lot already and I'm so, so grateful...but I always come to you after me and Mistah J fight...he'll know I'm with you..."

"...and you don't wanna risk a repeat..." Ivy finished, frowning. "Well I understand that, but if he kicked you out then I seriously doubt he's gonna come looking for you. And if he does, then what? I think I'd be able to deal with him, Harley. I'm the one with toxins, remember?"

"No, Red, you're already involved enough in this as is. I don't want you gettin' in deeper." She persisted, grabbing onto her friend's arm as they neared the car. "Besides, you've got your own life to live and shit to do, I don't wanna be moochin' off ya anymore. I've got my own little human to support now, anyways, and I need to start supportin' myself."

"That's..." Ivy halted walking, stopping to look at Harley seriously. "That's actually the most mature thing I've heard you say before. I'm shocked."

"Don't be, I can be mature when I wanna. I just choose not to be most of the time."

"You don't have to tell me that when I know it for a fact." Ivy stated. "But okay, fine. Since you're insisting on being that way, I guess you win."

She slid her own purse off her shoulder and unzipped it, shuffling through for a minute while Harley watched in confusion.

"But I'm not letting you wander around the streets homeless, that's for damn sure." She gasped when Ivy pulled out a credit card and handed it to her. At first, she didn't take it, and only looked at her friend with surprise and hesitance.

"Awe no, Red---I can't, I can't take your money--" She protested, but Ivy still persisted and kept holding the card out. When Harley still didn't take it, she finally grabbed her friend by the hand, sighing.

"Oh, you're taking it, I didn't say you had a choice." she clearly stated, shoving the card between Harley's fingers. "Besides, it's not my money anyways. I got this off some chump at a banquet last year. Trust me, the guy was loaded, and you need that cash more than I do right now."

Harley stared down at the card, gripping it tightly before putting it in her own purse. Her friend did have a point; she was flat broke. She had no money to her name right now, and stealing from a bank was not in her best interest right now if she wanted to maintain cover.

She turned to her friend, smiling as she threw her arms around her.

"Thank you Pammy. " she gushed. "I appreciate everything you’ve done, really, I don't know what I would ‘a done without you."

"Probably curl up in a pathetic heap somewhere and die." Ivy shrugged, chuckling softly. She pulled back yet kept a hand on Harley's shoulder. "Promise me you'll call when you find some place to stay, yeah?"

"'Course."

"Awesome." Ivy patted her shoulder and smiled, before checking her watch. "Aw shit, I better scoot. I'm already using borrowed time as we speak, I think you're going to have to get lunch by yourself at this rate."

She opened her car door and quickly slipped inside, but stopped as she was about to put the key in place.

"Wait, before I go, did you want me to drop you off somewhere?"

Harley thought for a moment, looking around her surroundings. It was bright and sunny now, unlike the previous weather from that morning. The crisp air she inhaled felt sweet, and she was suddenly feeling a lot better about the current circumstances then she had the other night.

It was going to be okay, she knew it.

"Nah--nah, I think I'll walk. It's a nice day out." She shook her head, smiling over at Ivy. "You just go on, you don't wanna keep your friends waitin' do ya?"

"Definitely not more than I already have." Ivy shut the car door, the engine roaring. As she grabbed onto the steering wheel, she glanced towards the window one last time and made a "Call Me" signal with her hand. Harley only nodded back at her and waved, watching as she drove off. Turning her back, she now faced the city ahead of her, inhaling in another breath of the sweet air.

Releasing it, she gripped her purse strap and took out the ultrasound pictures. Though it was hard to make out exactly what the baby looked like, or where it even was...it just made her happy to see it was okay...if only...if only it's daddy wanted to see it. That was the only pain she felt from any of this.

"It's us against the world now, kid." She pressed her thumb down tightly so as to keep the flimsy photographs from slipping out into the wind. "We're in this together, you and me. I promise we're going to make it."

\--

Approximately 30 minutes later, Harley had already trekked across a good portion of Gotham, halfway by walking, before finally hopping on board a bus-trolley. It'd dropped her off in a spot she'd swore she never been to before, or at least, couldn't remember being.

 The most she'd eaten so far was a taco she'd grabbed from a food truck, but even then, she had to admit she was still pretty hungry. This was probably her own fault from slacking at breakfast, but she couldn't help it. Then her stomach had been doing flip flops, now it had completely calmed down.

She'd wandered down the street aimlessly, window shopping here and there at some shops nearby, especially taking note of some cute children outfits. One that caught her eye the most was a frilly purple dress, with a matching green bow. She had to stop a moment and smile as she pictured a mini version of herself parading around in such a thing, and almost giggled at the thought.

For a few more minutes she went on, until a scent caught her nose. Following it, she found it belonged to a blueberry pie that sat in the window of a small diner. That taco definitely felt small in comparison now that she thought about it, about how hungry she actually was. Her stomach growled and after a moment's debate, she entered the diner, seeing that it was practically empty save for a few elderly people and a group of teenagers playing Scrabble at a booth table.

Quietly, she kept her head down and slid into another booth near the window. She placed both hands on the table, picking at the straps on her cast, all the while keeping her head down. A waitress approached upon noticing her, carrying a menu with her.

"Hey honey, how are you doin’ today?" she greeted, setting the menu down on the table. Harley looked up slightly, only smiling back at the woman as her response. The woman took out a pen and notepad from her dress pocket and popped the cap of the pen off, clipping it against the fabric of her dress.

"Bet its cold outside, huh?" she asked. "Can I start you off with something warm to drink? Coffee, maybe?"

"Um, no thanks." She would have liked to say yes, but she remembered Ivy had made her promise not to touch any caffeinated beverages during this entire pregnancy. Yeah sure, decaf was an option but she'd already stated her opinion on that matter already. "Could I just get some hot chocolate please?"

"One hot chocolate then? Alrighty," The waitress scribbled down the order on her paper. "Anything else you want with that?"

"Pie. A slice of that blueberry pie in the window, please."

That order was also scribbled down.

"Okay, awesome. You want whip cream on it?"

"Sure, why not." Harley shifted the menu aside. "Oh, and a cherry on top too? Please?"

The waitress finished writing everything down and looked over what she'd written, before looking over at Harley.

"So, one hot chocolate and a slice of blueberry pie?" Harley nodded. "Okay then, comin' right up."

She smiled before tucking away her notebook, and walked away. Harley sighed, leaning back in her seat and taking a glance out the window. The television blared overhead, though she only listened and didn't bother looking at it. It wasn't until she heard what was being said did she turn her focus over to the screen.

 _"And despite the bleak weather outlook for next week, officials for the Gotham City Charity Bash have said the event is still a go, and have no plans on cancelling anytime soon. "_ The news reporter was saying. _"It's rumored that even Wayne Enterprises CEO, Bruce Wayne, will be one of the many in attendance."_

Her pie and hot chocolate were sat in front of her, and she picked up her fork, yet kept her eyes focused on the television. In all that had happened, she'd forgotten that the whole bash was happening next week; she and Mistah J had had such big plans for it. At that reminder, she realized she wouldn't be getting to partake in spoiling everyone's fun since she was no longer his plus one.

"Aw, and rich boy was even attending..." she mumbled to herself as she cut off a piece of her pie. "Man am I missing out..."

But maybe it was for the better that she wasn't going. Maybe.

She could still go, she told herself. Wedge herself in, steal an invitation and cause her own little trouble.

But no, she had to remind herself that she wasn't the only person who mattered now. One false move and she'd back where she didn't want to be. And then her chances of ever holding her child would be slimmer than ever. Sure, the chances had been pretty slim the other day, but things were just getting better.

Things had to keep getting better. They couldn't get worse from here, could they?

 


	8. Chapter 8

As the news had predicted, the skies were clear and without a cloud the next week. Stars shone overhead Gotham as various vehicles were driven and parked beside a large, lit-up building with banners hanging from its balconies.

One such car, a small red one, pulled up, and out-stepped Ivy, dressed in a sparkling green gown and a pair of light green gloves to match. Her hair shone brightly in the lights reflecting off the building, the light also bouncing off the diamond earrings hanging off the ends of her ears.  She shut the car door and walked around it, carrying a small, clutch purse with her. A bouncer almost stopped her halfway, but she said nothing and handed her keys off to him, continuing to pad up the steps to the building.

Tonight, was the big night; the big charity bash that all of Gotham had been looking forward to it since the moment it was announced. These weren't normally her forte, not unless it had something to do with nature or whatnot; which in this case, had everything to do with why she was here. Nobody had been quite sure what the event was being held for, at first, until it was finally revealed it was to raise money for a new children's hospital in the city, which would have been all fine and dandy on Ivy's end had she not found out the area that was planning to be demolished for said-hospital was to be a cherished public garden that she loved going to on her off-days.

This was not her first rodeo; she'd had her fair share of trying to preserve any and every kind of plant life in the city, in any place, and had never stood for any kind of means of tearing any trees down. Once she recalled, some citizens had demanded a tree in the park should be torn down after a child had fallen from it. Of course, it was still up no thanks to Ivy's efforts, and she was determined to have the same results this time.

Not that she had anything against children or a hospital for them; but they had sure picked a lousy place to build it at. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of other areas they could have chosen. If her plan to save the garden tonight didn't work; it'd be time to take the measures she'd had to take in saving the tree. Stupid in the eyes of others, perhaps, but she held plant life as quite sacred.

Humans...well, it was obvious Harley was the only she cared for. She could only bare to tolerate other people, and even her friendship with the giggly blonde had started out as something of a toleration; now she couldn't bear the idea of the woman being hurt. She'd taken great care to keep in contact with her over the past week ever since Joker had kicked her out; apparently Harley was supposed to show up at this little gala tonight herself before that whole ordeal happened.

Which could be counted as another reason for why Ivy was here.

Not only was she determined to turn the heads of some city leaders, but she was also playing spy for her friend. Harley had wanted to go herself, of course, but being pregnant was a prevention from her doing so. She'd insisted she had plans first, to go and cause her own trouble; but then another bout of morning illness had come over her and she wasn't feeling up to it. Then again, she admitted to Ivy that wasn't the only reason she'd wanted to come.

She knew the Joker would be going through with his plans regardless of whether she was accompanying him or not, and she was a little curious to see how he was doing. Not that she wanted to get close to him after what happened at their last encounter, but her heart still ached for him despite that. As much as it pained Ivy, she'd agreed to keep an eye on things and give a full report to her the next day. She could care less if Joker ended up with a bullet in his back, but she'd promised Harley. She'd _promised._

A man dressed in black reached over and opened one of the big glass doors, and she smiled in return at him as she entered. Once inside, her heels could be heard clicking against the marble floor in echoes as she made her way down the hall and into the big, open room where most of the people were bound to be. As she took a step down one of the stairs to enter, another man dressed in black approached her, and she noticed he had an earpiece attached.

"Excuse me, miss, you'll need to show me your invitation before you can go in there." he said. Ivy raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh? Well I'm sorry, I wasn't aware." she responded, faking a surprised look. "I thought this event was free to the public."

"No ma'am, it's by invitation only. If you don't have it, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'm sure it won't come to that, honey." Ivy smiled at the man, raising an eyebrow. "If you could just give me a moment to look through my purse, I'm sure I left it in there. Do you mind?"

"Of course not." The man stepped back, folding his hands as he waited. Ivy lifted her purse and pretended to shuffle through it for a minute. She gave a fake gasp, and looked back up.

"Oh, gee, I think I actually left it at home." she said, frowning. "Damn it, this sucks! I was supposed to be meeting my fiancée here thirty minutes ago!"

She huffed, setting her purse under her arm. The man gave a sympathetic look, but remained in the same position.

"Well I'm sorry miss, but I can't let you in without an invitation. Not unless you're on the list." he stated. "Maybe if you told me your name I could do something to help out? I'd hate for you to miss out on evening with your fiancée."

She almost had to laugh at how gullible this guy was acting, but instead smiled gratefully back at him, giving off a fake sigh of relief.

"Aw, would you? I'd really appreciate it." The faint sound of orchestra music drifted to her ears from the lower half of the room. She glanced over towards the area, the area filled with nicely dressed people, all suckers who were willing to kill plant life over the fact the area might provide a nice hospital for their children. Pathetic.

Not that she hated kids or anything; they were innocent to the world as far as she was concerned. Adults were a definite different story, however.

"So, what is your name?" Her attention went back to the young man as he had pulled up an iPad with what she assumed to be the guest list on it. She craned forward to check the list, spotting some familiar names of some of Gotham's most popular city leaders. Obviously, she wasn't on the list, given that she was a wanted criminal. But still, she answered as the guy was still expecting her to.

"Isley. Dr. Pamela Isley."

The man scrolled through the list, his brows furrowing as he shook his head.

"Hm... I’m sorry, Dr. Isley, but I'm not seeing you on here..." he murmured. "Are you sure your fiancée is supposed to meeting you here?"

"Oh, positive..." Ivy pulled her purse back out and opened it, pulling out what looked to be a perfume bottle. She grabbed onto the handle. "Maybe check again? You were going kind of fast through that list, anyways."

Her fingers squeezed down on the handle as the man scrolled through again. He was beginning to shake his head, but stopped halfway as the scent began reach his nostrils. A small, green cloud had filled the air between him and Ivy, but only he seemed bothered by it.

Things were hazy for a moment for the young man, and he coughed, waving his hand to rid the air of the green cloud. When it cleared and he looked back down at the guest list in his hands, he was surprised to see that Ivy's name was indeed there. What he hadn't realized that during his haze of being distracted, Ivy had snatched the pad from him and edited in her name while he was hypnotized, but he didn't know this for apparent reasons.

"Well what do you know, you were there the whole time." He smiled up at her. "My mistake, sorry Dr. Isley. Have a good time."

"Oh no apologies, please. It's an honest mistake." Ivy set the perfume bottle back in her purse, shaking her head. The man stepped aside, allowing her to fully pass him and go down the stairs as she had been previously doing before he stopped her. The faint orchestra music became louder as she fully entered, taking in the vast decorations and the beautiful diamond chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Clearly, they were pulling no punches with this event. Goodness they must have been desperate for willing patrons if they had to look this expensive.

She walked around the room for a bit eyeing the dozens of wealthy citizens fluttering about and socializing. It was a common fact that you could expect any kind of social event in Gotham to be a big deal, given the city's past. Sure, it was a big deal for the civilians, and Ivy did recognize quite a few of them from their times on the news, but she was surprised she didn't see anyone else she knew yet, those mainly being other criminals. These kinds of events were a gold mine for a lot of villains in this city; but given the security of this place...maybe it wasn't too shocking she seemed to be the only bad seed here right now.

Right now, were the keywords.

The Joker was bound to show up soon if he had been serious with these plans, which knowing him, she knew he'd probably infiltrated the place already and had the staff replaced with some of his goons. Too bad he was one short, but she didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. It was his own fault, and he'd proved to manage in heists by himself before Harley had ever come along.

Her eyes fell on the large poster-board that was propped up by a metal easel. She walked over to it, eyeing it up and down. At noticing the design for the hospital, she sneered and crossed her arms.

"A better place for the children of Gotham, eh? Yeah, I'll bet." she snorted.

Footsteps echoed behind her, yet she didn't turn. Not yet, anyways, until she noticed the plate of champagne glasses being held beside her.

"It's not the worst thing they've held a charity for." A familiar voice said, causing her head to snap to the side. Though she wasn't surprised to see who it was, she was still amused to find Frost standing next to her dressed in a sharp vest and bowtie, him being the bearer of the champagne glasses. She smirked and took one of the glasses, sipping at it.

"Well well, Johnny Frost, nice running into you of all people." she remarked. She brought her glass down, motioning to his outfit. "What happened, you finally get a job that pays better?"

"Mister J pays me well enough, Ms. Isley, you know why I'm here." Frost curtly stated, not turning to face her.

"Ah, right. So," Ivy motioned to the other servers in the room. "So, all of you, that's his guys?"

Frost nodded.

"More or less, we're still working on security." He then turned his head towards her. "Soon enough, this place is going to be a bloody mess. I'd advise leaving before you get hurt."

"Me? Please Johnny, I think I'll be fine." Ivy gave a wave of her hand, laughing shortly before taking another sip of her drink. "I'm not here to partake in any charity anyways, my business shouldn't take too long."

"Right, _your_ business." Frost chuckled, looking back at the poster in front of them. "So, I take it you're not a fan of the area they picked to build this place, huh?"

"What gave that away?" She cocked her head at him, shooting a sarcastic smile his way. "Of course not, in fact, I fully intend to make sure that location changes after tonight. Can your boss hold off on his parade until I've talked to some people?"

"I'm not in position to bargain with him, Ms. Isley. Whatever business you have, you better do it quick." 

A moment of silence, awkward silence at that. Ivy only sipped at her drink, and surveyed the crowd again. Frost seemed to be itching to talk again, but he only shared her glance towards the crowd and said nothing. Something was on his mind, and she was certain what, but she wasn't about to be the one to bring it up.

"Look at all of them...the whole, stingy bunch...don't they have anything better to do?" she muttered.  He shrugged halfly, shifting the platter of drinks to his other hand.

"I guess not. But I suppose even rich folks enjoy flocking together for a good cause." he said. "The boss says that makes the job easier, you know, to get them all at once when they're at events like this. Get what he's owed directly."

"Hm...." She swished the ice around in her beverage and caressed the glass absent-mindedly. "I guess that's one way to look at it...oh, speaking of which--"

She turned to face Frost, tipping her head slightly.

"Just how is your boss doing, anyways? Not that I'm concerned, but..." Her voice trailed off, not wanting to mention she was asking on Harley's behalf. But Frost didn't inquire her about this, much to her relief, and just answered.

"Ah, you know. The same, as usual." There was some hesitance to his tone. "Nothing new to report, really."

Oh sure, sure. That stubborn bastard was probably in a very unstable shape right now, Ivy thought. Not that he'd admit it, but everyone knew how he could get when Harley wasn't around. And that usually meant crime was at a higher rate than it usually was. The man was an absolute drama queen, despite his insistence.

"Oh really? I thought he'd be a little more off considering everything that's happened lately..." Her coy remark caught Frost off guard, causing his eyebrows to lift in surprise. But inwardly he chided himself; Ivy had been the first person Harley went to after Joker's outburst, he knew he shouldn't be surprised she knew what happened. He just didn't mention it since...obviously, it wouldn't make for a very pleasant conversation topic.

He chuckled, as another couple entered the room.

"Yeah, huh...you'd think so, wouldn't you?" The passing couple both snatched up drinks from the platter as he held it out whilst talking. "Nah, uh, I doubt he'd admit it if he actually was. He don't tell me everything, you know."

"And how long have you been working for him?" Ivy eyed him with a brief disbelief before finishing her drink off. "Geez, he really needs to pay you more. I'm shocked you didn't make him pay your medical bills after that helicopter crash last month."

This did cause another curt laugh from Frost, but she did have a point. A point he didn't dare mention in front of his boss, who'd only told him he'd just "been lucky enough to survive and should take it for granted". There was no confirming this job had good healthcare, that was for dang certain.

"He pays what he pays, Ms. Isley. I don't question it." Ivy sat her drink back on the platter as he spoke. "I've always found that to be the better option, I guess, not asking him anything unless it's necessary. Which, I do have to ask you, something, actually..."

"If it's about Harley, then I'm not telling you anything." The curtness of her voice startled him, though it didn't surprise him. The sharp look in her eyes was enough to tell him that she was going to stay by that fact and not spill a word about her friend, and it'd probably be a stupid idea to persist, yet he did anyways.

"Hey, I didn't say you had to. I was just curious." He turned to face her entirely. "It's just, you know how Mister J gets when she's gone...I'm just wanting to make sure she's okay, alright? That's all I wanna know, you don't have to tell me anything else."

Ivy said nothing at this, still giving the same sharp look towards him. She silently huffed, with her mouth shut tight, and turned her attention back to looking at the poster of the hospital, not that it interested her at all, but it was better than looking at Frost given that this conversation was happening. Silent again, save for the orchestra once again.

Frost cleared his throat, his eyes drifting towards the ground. He wasn't entirely sure what to say now; he'd only hoped Ivy would be willing enough to give him a simple yes or no answer as to if Harley was okay or not, but clearly, she wasn't even wanting to do just that. Damn it if he'd never been good talking to women, hell if he knew how he'd managed to even ask his own wife out when they were first dating, but this was for Joker's sake. Life had been living hell for the past week, and he wanted to give his boss some peace of mind that his queen was perfectly alright and not back in that scumbag prison.

"Please, Pamela." The use of her first name didn't even turn her head, she kept her face away. "I just need a simple answer; Mister J... he’s been, really off his rocker since Ms. Quinn has been gone...I just want to give him some reassurance, that's all. At the very least, just get to calm down or something."

"I don't owe you that, and sure as hell don't owe him that." Ivy spat back. "Not after what he did to Harley. I'm sorry, I may not have a contempt for human life myself, but attempting to murder your own child is just unforgiveable."

"Well, I'll agree with you on that..." Frost scuffed his foot at the tile uncomfortably, remembering when Joker had told him everything that happened. He hadn't even asked; the man had just started rambling about it like he was drunk, and had almost broken another mirror in the process. It'd taken everything Frost had to not just lock him in a room to make sure he didn't hurt himself. 

"But I'm not asking you to forgive him, and I wouldn't expect you to." This stirred something on Ivy's face, but she still didn't move to face him. "I know...everything that happened was bad, but please. Just tell me if Ms. Quinn is alright or not, I think he deserves to know. Anything else you mention...like her whereabouts, I swear I won't tell him. "

She once again said nothing, as to be expected.

Frost sighed, turning to walk away as he had noticed the all the champagne glasses on the platter were empty. Not that that was an issue, obviously, since this wasn't his job, but he did have to check with the boys to see if things were ready yet. If Ivy wasn't going to answer, so be it.

"Johnny, wait."

Her voice caused him to half and he looked back.

"Yeah?"

Ivy hesitated, her voice catching up in her throat. She held her mouth open for a moment, unsure of actually whether or not she should continue talking. It shut, and she closed her eyes, releasing a small breath.

"She's...she's fine..." She finally answered, but only a shaky emotion was displayed on her face. "If you really gotta know...Harley's okay. That's all I'm saying."

Frost stared back her, nodding.

"Okay." The orchestra had stopped playing and a guest speaker was now on stage, speaking about some crap that neither individual cared about, the guests applauding. "Okay, thanks for telling me."

He turned to leave again, but Ivy wasn't finished. She crossed her arms and lifted her head up in order to get a strand of hair back from her face.

"Oh, yeah, and in case your boss cares--"

He stopped.

"The baby's fine too. He didn't actually kill it, if you thought he did."

This for some reason caused Frost to feel some relief. He'd never cared much for kids himself, personally, but harming them was something he'd never been able to bring himself to do. If it was something his boss required, yeah, that was one thing...but on his own, he'd never be able to. He never liked it.

Harley had always seemed to be this way too. She had no problem hurting kids, but she'd only ever killed one...which had landed her on Batman's blacklist. But her own child...he wouldn't have expected her to agree with Joker's trying to kill it. She'd always just seemed to have a soft spot for little ones...especially babies. He'd never told anyone, but for some reason, he'd always had the feeling Harley had wanted a child...

Smart thing she never mentioned it around Mister J considering how he acted.

Then again, she did always seem a bit nervous whenever the subject came around herself. He'd never asked, it wasn't his place to.

"One more thing. She asked me to give these to you, to give to him." He started at Ivy's approaching him, having been in thought. She dug through her purse and pulled out a series of pictures, then held them out with her gloved hand towards him. He took them, instantly recognizing them as ultrasound photos.

"She thought you could give them to him...I guess, whenever he warmed up to the whole baby thing." He looked up at Ivy, as she shrugged. " I don't know, she still thinks he's going to be okay with it. I keep telling her he's not, but...I just don't know."

He shuffled through the pictures, before stuffing them into his pants pocket. It had taken a moment to notice the baby at first, but he'd felt a stab of pity the moment he'd saw its little alien-like form in the photographs. The fact that someone would want to kill _that_ just struck him as a little heartless...as his boss was, he supposed.

As he was about to say thank you, his other pocket buzzed and he reached back, pulling his phone out. Furrowing his brows, he shook his head and quickly shoved the phone back.

"I gotta go, boss says it's almost go-time." he said to Ivy. "No promise I'll get the pictures to him yet, but..."

"I know, go on, have fun." She smiled at him, though it wasn't a kind smile. "He doesn't need that kind of distraction right now anyways."

Frost only nodded, then turned on his heel to leave.

"I'd hurry up and get my business finished if I were you." he called over his shoulder as he disappeared around a corner. Ivy snorted.

"Just don't blow anything up yet and we'll be fine." she answered back, but he didn't respond. He'd already gone, leaving Ivy to her own devises. She sighed quietly, and turned to face the crowd in the room. The speaker had finished by now, and the orchestra was playing again, so she began to move more into the center of things. After that whole conversation with Frost, she felt a little...empty. It was amazing how a little thing like that could jar her mood, but it had. She'd have to gather her confidence back quick if she was to make an impact on anyone tonight.

Which, who was she going to make an impact on first, exactly? Doctors were out of the question, medical ones at least. They were certainly not going to agree on moving the hospital's location and making damage on the progress they'd already lost, so her only bet was any of the rich company leaders who had decided to show up.

Speak of the devil, there was one now.

Her eyes landed on a familiar figure, one she'd seen on the news enough times to count. Tall, dark, stubbled-chin...he had the appearance of any typical CEO, but anyone in Gotham could tell him apart from any of the other business owners running around. Bruce Wayne, the city's boy billionaire. Of course, he'd be here tonight, of course he'd be okay with this whole hospital thing. Ivy smirked, and clutching her purse, made her way over to him as he exchanged words with an attractive dark-haired woman.

The two had been engaged in a rather private conversation, from what Ivy could make out as she approached, yet she cleared her throat anyways and stood before them.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne?"

He looked at the sound of her voice, his gaze falling on her.

"My name's Pamela Isley, I was wondering if we could have a chance to talk?"

Bruce did look like he wanted to respond, but before he had a chance to speak, the dark-haired woman turned and gave a rather annoyed look her way.

"I'm sorry, can this wait? We were in the middle of a private conversation." she snapped, but Ivy only put back on her smirk, staring back at her and putting her hand on her hip.

"If it was private, I'm sure it can wait for another time. I hardly think a public venue is the time for a lover's spat." she stated, causing the woman's cheeks to flush red. She almost stammered, trying to speak again, but instead grunted and looked back to Bruce for help. He lifted his hand slowly, shaking his head.

"It's fine, Selina. She's got a point, anyways, just go wait for me for now." This only caused more protest to come from the woman, but she just huffed again and made her way to the bar nearby, brushing past Ivy, not before shooting her a dirty look however. Ivy watched her leave, then turned back to him.

"Pretty girl, a little catty if you ask me." she remarked. "She your date?"

"Heh, something like that." Bruce scratched the back of his head and chuckled. "It's--it's fine, really. That conversation was getting a little heated anyways and I'd uh, prefer to avoid conflict right now."

Ooh boy, if he didn't want conflict then he shouldn't have bothered coming.

A passing server, possibly one of Joker's goons, came by, offering a plate of appetizers to the two. Ivy held up her hand and said no, while Bruce took one of the veggies and snatched a bite from it before speaking again.

"Now, I don't think we've met. Have we met?" he spoke with a bit of curiosity, but Ivy shook her head.

"No, I don't think so. I don't really make it a point to socialize with billionaires." she stated, propping a fist on her hip. Her words must have had some sort of impact because he chuckled at her statement.

"Why not? I know not all of them can be as charming as I am but--well, I'm just saying." Ivy smirked at him, while he finished off the small veggie he'd snatched from the plate. "We're not really all the stereotype the news makes us out to be, trust me."

It would take a lot more than fancy words to make her trust any of his kind, but she only kept on her facade and continued to smile, even though on the inside she'd rather be anywhere else but near him right now. His question about if he knew her had irked her somewhat; and even she couldn't help but feel she'd seen him somewhere else than on the news.

Maybe it was just a sense of deja vu.

"Now uh, Ms. Isley was it?"

"Yes."

"You were wanting to talk, right? I'm just going to go ahead and assume you're another reporter, so um--"

"Oh, I'm shocked, Mr. Wayne, what made you assume I'm a reporter?" She pretended to look astounded. He chuckled again, but crossed his arms.

"Well I'm sorry if I'm wrong, but usually when some stranger approaches you in public they're either a reporter or they want something." A small huff. "Trust me when I say I've had plenty of experience with both of those types of things."

"Then I'd qualify myself as the second half, Mr. Wayne, because if I were a reporter I would've asked you my questions already." Ivy's eyes shifted aside momentarily as she swore she saw one of the servers sneaking off into a back room, but her attention went back to Bruce. "I promise I won't take up too much of your time so you can back to your lady friend..."

She eyed the dark-haired woman standing alone at the bar, and snickered.

"But it's important, really. It's about the location for the hospital."

As if he'd been asked about this before, Bruce sighed and looked ready to turn around heel-face-turn and go back to the other woman, but Ivy grabbed his arm.

"Wait, just hear me out--" she began to plead, but he slipped out from her grasp and continued walking.

"I don't need to, Ms. Isley, I've already had enough your kind talk to me the entire week about the location." He caught on that she was following him and stopped and spun around. "And I'll tell you what I told them; we already have a plan mapped out and construction has already begun, we can't halt it now, I'm sorry."

"But there's plenty of other locations, why pick a location as cherished and beautiful as the old gardens? It's practically a Gotham landmark." Ivy pointed out. "Seriously, is there nowhere else?"

"No, Ms. Isley. It's hard to find a good, clean space of land in this city, and the garden was the only option. It's not we're completely getting rid of it anyways." The music from the orchestra had grown quiet. "And don't think I'll be able to convince anyone else on the board to change their minds either; I'm the one who funded this project in the first place. End of story."

"But--"

"But nothing. Look, I understand where you're coming from, but I'm sorry, there's nothing else you can do." Bruce turned again. "Gardens are easier to replace than hospitals, I'm sure you'll find another place for the plants. Relocate them if you have to, but there's no changing the current plans."

With that, he began to leave, and Ivy had the fullest intentions of following him as she was not satisfied with the answer he'd given her; yes, she'd expected something like that from him, she'd expected a long out explanation which was basically a fancy way of saying "no". Maybe the other old guys on the board would be okay with her protests but considering Bruce was a pillar in this city, someone who was all for this project from the start, that's why she'd chosen to target him first.

It was fortunate she had her other ways of persuasion...it'd worked plenty a time in the past.

But it seemed she should've taken Frost's warning seriously, as she did not get a chance to use her persuasions. The lights dimmed in the room and the loud sound of gunfire blared across the room, all the servers now wearing their iconic costumes to be recognized as Joker's goons. The dark-haired woman from the bar had already ran for the exit, up the stairs, and both Ivy and Bruce had to duck down as bullets surged overhead them. Though many people in the room were clearly panicking, and for good reason, Ivy only groaned internally yet kept down.

Damn that green haired bastard, he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

She looked to her side where Bruce had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down, but found he was gone. Though confused, she didn't have time to figure out where he could have run off to, especially considering that bullets were still flying through the hair. Several well-dressed men and women hit the ground, either dead or dying, and the orchestra was all but slaughtered save for three people.

A loud laugh soon replaced the bullets and the Joker appeared on a balcony on the second floor, firing off his gun at anyone who was still breathing up there, and dressed in his signature tuxedo. He lowered the weapon to his side, cracking his neck, and looked out at the bloody crowd beneath him.

"Good evening ladies and gents!" he called out, his voice making Ivy's lip curl up in annoyance. "Your entertainment has arrived!"

He kicked at some poor soul next to him, laughing at the individual's pain, and proceeded to grab onto one of the big curtains nearby, swinging down on it in a merry fashion, and skipped over several dead bodies and up onto the stage. Ivy couldn't believe how he was acting; it was typical, without Harley around, more people always ended up dead than she'd care to count, not that she cared, but she didn't want to believe he'd be this okay after everything last week.

Or maybe he really didn't care, she wouldn't be shocked.

The scared musicians left on stage tried their best to exit, but didn't get to, as Joker noticed them straight away. He cackled at them and lifted his gun.

"Nah uh, I don't think so. The party's just getting started." he chirped. "We need music, do we not? What's a party without music, huh? What's a party without...hm, a clown, even? Boys!"

His henchman were now parked on both sides of the room.

"Get these folks tied up and see what party favors they've got, kill anyone who tries to get away." He motioned his gun around the room, and instantly several people who tried to make a mad dash were shot. One woman screamed as the man next to her was shot in the head and fell next to her, what luck would have it that they were both next to Ivy. She could only roll her eyes.

"Come now, no one likes a party pooper." Joker's scolding voice came from the stage, and he glared back at the musicians upon realizing they were still standing there petrified.  "What'd I say? Music, now!"

Looking like they'd just emptied their bladders, the musicians shuffled nervously and began to play a pathetic tune with what instruments they had left, and Joker made a noise that sounded like a strangled cat, plugging one of his ears.

"Aw geez, you call that music?"  He tossed his gun his aside and snatched up a pair of cymbals, proceeding to smash them together several times on one of the poor men's heads, until there was nothing left but a bloody, pulpy mess. His corpse hit the ground, while Joker laughed, and the other musicians, a man and a woman, shakily stared down at their friend's body.

"That was a little piece I like to call...cymbal smash." Joker turned to face the crowd, picking his gun back up. He didn't even have to say anything else to the man and woman on stage, as they nervously began to play their music again, this time sounding much better. This did seem to please him a bit, and he watched with merriment as the crowd before him was tied up in pairs. Given that he was occupied, Ivy tried to take this as her moment to leave, to try sneaking past several rows of dead bodies and bound-couples, but he spotted her, cracking a grin.

"Hey now, what did I say about trying to leave?" Her head snapped towards him and she gave off a look of disbelief, knowing very well he probably recognized her. She froze in place, and a couple of henchmen came up behind her. The Joker's grin remained and he pointed at her with his gun.

"You, yes. You're a pretty little thing." Ivy cringed at his words. What a fucker, he knew she hated this kind of talk. "If you haven't noticed, I'm short a plus one, and I can't help but notice all the pairs in this room. You mind joining me up here, honey?"

"Actually, I would." Ivy snapped bitterly, but she found the henchmen pulling her to feet and she struggled, kicking at one of them with her heel. None of this succeeded, and she was escorted across the room, still protesting with every move. Many people seemed shocked she'd spoken back to Joker, but little did they know the fact these two were already well acquainted.

"Mind your manners now, darling. Lest you wanna end up like your friends here." Joker's voice lowered as he watched his men pull her up on the stage with him. She tried to make a dash but he snatched onto her, Ivy letting out a startled scream as he laughed and held onto her hand.

"Ooh, I like this one. She's feisty." he said to Frost, who was now standing next to him. The quiet man only nodded, yet he and Ivy made eye contact for a moment. He looked helpless, an accomplice in his boss's plans, yet he didn't seem too thrilled to see that Ivy hadn't left already.

"Now, if you've got this handled..." He handed his gun over to his right-hand man, jerking Ivy close to him. "I'm just going to go have a bit of fun with our little friend here, warn me if a certain someone decides to show up, yeah?"

"Sure, boss." Frost looked helplessly at Ivy again, and could only watch as Joker cackled and pulled her off the stage, dragging her across the room and into a smaller room on the side. He released her, causing her to stumble into the other room, as he slammed the door. The smile on his face instantly vanished as he swirled around to face her.

"Plant." he hissed.

"Clown." She returned the favor, turning up her nose at him. "I wasn't aware the circus was in town, how's business?"

"Shut up, you overgrown weed." Obviously, he didn't take too kindly to her sarcasm and moved from the door, stomping towards her. "Be grateful I left my gun with Johnny or else I'd have put a bullet in you by now."

"And yet I'm the one with toxins and the ability to control plants. And there's a real plant in here." Ivy almost laughed and crossed her arms. "You really think you'd get even get a chance to shoot me?"

"Try me."

"I would. But you're short a weapon and I promised Harley I wouldn't kill you despite every part of me wanting to." At the mention of Harley, something seemed to spark on his face, only he sneered and shuffled over to one of the leather chairs in the room. He didn't sit on it, but instead propped his leg atop and supported his weight on his knee.

"Surprising. I'd imagine she'd be giving you the go-ahead." he grunted.

He actually had a point for once, amazing.

"Yeah, I thought she would too but she begged me not to. Thinks you still have some sense somewhere in that fried-up brain of yours." Ivy came closer to him, but still maintained her distance. She rubbed at her arms, noting the room was a little chilly. "Is this the whole reason you dragged me in here, J? To pout about your ex-girlfriend?"

"That's not it." Joker almost hissed, his eyes flashing over in anger almost. He moved his leg from the chair and stormed closer to Ivy, who backed up. "I'm just killing time until Bats arrives, if I'd known you'd try to guilt me about that slut then I would've chosen someone else to drag in here."

"Whoa, harsh. I can see you have the best respect for women."

"Watch yourself, fly trap. Don't degrade me."

"Oh no, you're doing a fine job of that yourself." Ivy tipped her head. "So, what are you gonna do if you can't shoot me, hit me with the same cane you tried killing your kid with? Oh wait, you don't have it on you, do you?"

This seemed to be ticking him off, and it satisfied her. He deserved this kind of back-talk after how nonchalant he was acting about everything, and everything Ivy had said so far seemed to be pressing the wrong buttons. But in her eyes, this was a good thing.

"You..." He jabbed his finger at her, sucking in his lower lip. "You don't get to talk to me like that. You don't even know what really went on, you have no right."

"Maybe not, but I know enough." He sneered again and turned from her. "How did you think killing your baby wasn't going to hurt, Harley? I think that qualifies as hurting her if she ended up with a bruise, you know."

"Stop right now, I'm warning you."

"No, I'd rather not. Because it's taking everything in me to keep from choking you right now." Ivy sat herself down on one of the other chairs. "But as I stated, I promised Harley. I might not have a regard for human life but damn it J, that was your own kid. Don't you have some kind of moral for that?"

"No, I don't. And don't refer to that creature as my kid, because I'm not accepting it." Joker growled, curling his fists. "I already made myself clear when I kicked her out, if she really was still oh so, heads over heels for me, she would've let me kill it."

"Like hell she would have."

A loud crash from the other room cut off any words Joker was about to snap back at Ivy, and he instead gasped and strode over to the pair of doors. He peered out, a grin appearing on his face as he noticed the chaos occurring outside, and spun around back to Ivy.

"Well, as lovely as this conversation has been, I think the guest of honor just showed up. You'll excuse me if I'd rather deal with him than you right now." He cocked his head, his grin slightly fading as he looked at her. Ivy stared back, only groaning and letting her head fall back.

"Oh please, go ahead. Let's just ignore that you're refusing to acknowledge your own kid and that Harley's still crazy for you." She slunked down in the chair. "Don't let that distract you from your big-boy fights, now."

The Joker opened his mouth to snap back at her, but he snapped his jaw shut, deciding against wasting anymore of his breath on her. Gripping the doorknob tightly, he swung the entire set of doors open and paraded out, spreading his arms out open wide like he was about to hug an old friend. Ivy watched him leave, then crept from her seat, and peeked out the open doors. She could have just left now sure, but she could see Batman on the stage, she knew this wasn't going to end pleasantly given the rivalry those two had.

Promised. She'd promised Harley she'd tell her everything, she couldn't leave when the worst hadn't happened yet.

\--

"Bats! Batsy Batsy, nice to see ya!" Joker chirped merrily as he approached the stage, where Batman had already proceeded to take down any approaching henchmen. The dark-clad figure grunted at the clown's appearance, curling his own fists as he stepped off the stage.

"You shouldn't be here, Joker. Don't you have a bank to be robbing?" he spoke, in that gruff, deep voice of his. Joker almost looked offended, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense as he approached.

"Why B-Man, you hurt me. You know I have higher standards than that." he said. "No, no, I thought I'd try something a little more complicated tonight. How about you, I would've thought you'd be out patrolling the rooftops as usual."

"I got word you'd be here." Batman stopped after stepping off the stage, not coming any closer to the other man. "Where's your sidekick?"

J stiffened. He stopped walking, and his arms fell to his side, and the grin on his face almost looked like it was struggling to stay on at the mere mention of his "sidekick". In the past, when Harley had been referred to as the sidekick, he had always taken great offense to this, and she did too. She wasn't his sidekick, no, she was the only person who'd ever come close to being his equal.

But the mention of her...damn, why was he letting it get to him. He told himself in his mind he wouldn't let Ivy's words stay in his mind, he definitely did not need this distraction right now. So, he mustered the grin back and cackled, kicking aside the hand of a corpse.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Bats. What about your sidekick, huh? I thought you'd at least half one of those little orphans tagging along with ya again." His voice shook though it wasn't too noticeable. Batman only grunted at this and grabbed the batarang from his belt.

"That's also none of your business. I think we're pretty evenly matched here anyways." he said, lifting the small weapon to throw. A bullet knocked it out of his hand, however, coming from a henchman, who'd traded his disguise for a Panda costume. Frustrated, Batman came towards Joker, ready to throw a fist at him, but he stepped out of the way, giving off a small whistle while the dark knight's fist met with nothing but thin air.

"Oops, missed." he snickered, and ducked again as another punch was thrown his way. He kept this pattern up all the while backing up the stage, and hopped up, sitting and swinging his legs like a gleeful little child.

"You're way off your game, Batsy. I'd hoped you would at least try." he mocked, causing Batman to grumble. The dark man snatched out another batarang to toss, the Joker frowning and leaning back on the stage.

"Oh, come on, you can do better than that." he jeered. "You're really not trying, are you?"

Before either man could make another move against each other, a stray bullet flew out of thin air, not being noticed until a red stain appeared on the white shirt underneath Joker's jacket. He felt the pain, a little after, and looked down at his shoulder, eyes widening and mouth agape. Even Batman seemed a bit startled, and neither of them seemed to know who fired until the person responsible made themselves known by firing again. This time, Frost, who had disappeared behind a bannister, dove in front of Joker and shot back, hitting the same woman who'd screamed at the man being killed next to her. She'd seemed to have snagged a gun from him, and was making a last-ditch attempt to be a hero.

This attempt, was short-lived, as the bullet from the Frost’s gun hit her in the forehead. Ivy had witnessed this entire scene from where she was still watching, and had kept quiet.

Batman's eyes went from Frost, to Joker, who was now standing up, but staggering around for support. His wound was already bleeding badly, yet he seemed persistent in trying to keep going. His nemesis charged towards him, using this as his opportunity, grabbing him by the scruff of his jacket. Joker coughed, wincing underneath his touch.

"Ah, easy, Bats. You wouldn't hurt an already dying man, would you?" he joked, and the other man frowned.

"You're not dying. You're going back to Arkham, you've had too much time out here as is." he said, jerking Joker closer. Joker coughed again, and faked a look of horror and protest at the mention of Arkham.

"Oh no, no please. Anything but that, I can't go back now." he whined. "The food was crap, Bats, you can't make me eat that stuff again, please!"

This was all fake whining and Batman knew it well, having hauled the green haired criminal into that god-forsaken asylum more than times than he'd like to have counted. He said nothing to respond to this, and let go of the bleeding man, then moving to grab his cuffs from his belt.

A cloud of smoke suddenly filled the air, fogging the entire area around the two of them, and a laugh could be heard from Joker as footsteps moved away from Batman. He searched, not being able to find where the clown had gone off to, but was soon enough able to make out the sight of him being helped out the back door by Frost. He started to go after them, but coughed, the smoke being too much for him to even focus. By the time it cleared and he could see properly again, the clown prince had already disappeared.

Outside, a black van pulled up and the doors were swung open in the back. Frost quickly led the Joker down the steps of the large building and once they got the van, moved to help him inside. But he scoffed and pushed the larger man off him, trying to move into the vehicle himself.

"Please, Johnny, I'm not a child." he snapped, although weakly.

"Boss, you're hurt. There's no way--"

"Ah god, just--shut up. I'm hearing two of you now, oh Christ..." Joker's gaze looked pretty dazed, and he squinted, growling in pain. His arms were quivering violently from the blood loss and he looked like he was going to keel over at any second. Frustrated, yet despite his boss's insistence, Frost finished helping him into the van. As the vehicle sped off into the night, Ivy emerged from the building, running out and down the steps. She saw the vehicle speeding off, and not soon after, another vehicle came speeding out from behind the big building, which she unfortunately recognized as the infamous Batmobile.

There was no doubt Joker would probably get away; he did have some of the best drivers working for him. But Ivy could only watch as the two cars took off in pursuit of each other, and just shook her head slowly, sighing.

"You are a doomed man, Joker...doomed..." she muttered, before heading to her own car which was surprisingly still intact even though Joker's van had bumped into it.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Johnny Frost entered his apartment building, making his way over to a ratty looking elevator. He pressed the button, stepping back to wait as the hum of the machine could be heard coming down from whatever floor it had previously been on.

It was very late, later than it had been before. An old pair of elevator doors opened, revealing itself to be almost entirely empty. Given that the time, it wasn't too surprising nobody was up in this place except for him. He would have at least expected the landlord to be heading up to the roof to get drunk, as he usually did every night. Frost stepped in quickly, knowing very well how those old things like to shut quicker than they opened. He'd learned it the hard way when he and his wife had first moved into this dump, having lost many a tie from previous experiences.

Dim yellow lights glowed in the hallway as he exited at the third floor. The sirens from earlier had quieted, and the city seemed more at peace than it earlier. Though, that could be argued, given how busy the coroners and policemen would be after tonight's events.

It was funny how people in Gotham still yearned for peaceful nights, when the night was anything but.

He padded down the hallway, hearing nothing but silence from the other apartments. 24B was his home, right down at the end of the hall.  Not as fancy as you'd expect it to be considering he worked for the Clown Prince of Crime, but he was content with his dwellings. He'd always been a simple man, a quiet one too, which was why he figured he'd been hired in the first place. He never questioned his boss's work and did as he was told.

Tonight, had been no exception, and it had been a long night.

A pair of keys hit the floor as he accidentally dropped them upon trying to open the door, and were promptly scooped back up. He unlocked the door and entered, quietly shutting the door behind him. With the blood on his jacket, he'd prefer not to wake his wife up right and have to deal with any of her questions. So, he walked into the kitchen and took it off, setting it down on the one of the chairs.

 He noticed a plate of food left on the table, having gone cold from sitting out so long. It caused a small smile to appear on his face, and he then went to the fridge to retrieve a beer, Lord knows he needed it after tonight. It fizzled as it was popped open, but he didn't drink it just yet. Instead, he sat it on the table, placing his hands against it as well. His eyelids felt heavy and he grunted, rubbing at them tiredly. Yes, it had indeed been too long of a night. He was surprised he was even home right now.

It wasn't as if he wasn't used to his boss getting injured; it happened almost all the time considering the price on his head. It was fortunate they even had a doctor who was willing to help; but given that he was a retired doctor, it wasn't like anyone was going to want to know what he was up to. Even though Frost had been adamant in remaining by Joker's side, the doctor had simply told him to go home and rest, that there was no use in staying and waiting for his boss to recover.

"These things don't happen overnight." he'd stated. "With all the bullets I've dug out of your boss, I doubt now is going to be any different from the other times. No use in worrying."

So, he'd left, but with hesitance. The Joker hadn't even been conscious by the time they got the doctor over, having passed out from the blood loss. No doubt he'd up and griping tomorrow, but he should thank his lucky stars that bullet hadn't travelled any farther than it had. It'd been close this time, too close.

He was going to get himself killed one of these days if he didn't end up doing it himself.

Now seated at the table, Frost picked at the food that was indeed cold on his plate, and took quiet sips of his beer. His mind went back to the photos Ivy had given him, the ultrasound photos of his boss's kid. Of Harley's baby. Both their kid. It was weird to even imagine those two pro-creating, but they'd gone and done it. Unintentionally, albeit.

He hadn't given J the photos yet, obviously, but he wasn't too sure if he wanted to. He also didn't feel good keeping them either. Reaching into his back pocket, he dug around until he found them, pulling them out to look at again for perhaps the umpteenth time that evening.

It was so...odd. He couldn't remember the last time he saw photos like this...but he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be looking at them. No, this kid's father should be seeing these, even if he didn't want to. It just wasn't right. Frost had never questioned his boss, never ever, but he had to now. The man was crazy, yes, that much was obvious, but what did he have against having a child? It'd mean an heir, he'd have someone to take over his legacy...wasn't that what any criminal wanted?

Just what was holding him back, he wondered.

"Johnny?"

He looked up, seeing his wife standing in the entranceway of the kitchen. She had turned on the light, walking to the table. She was dressed in the same nightgown and bathrobe she wore every night, and her hair was an absolute mess. Yet, he found himself happy to see her. Always did, always would. No matter how she looked, the only thing he valued more than his job was her.

He said nothing to her, as she came over to him. She eyed the bloody jacket, said nothing about it, and looked back at him.

"Long night?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Yeah..." he sighed, massaging his temples as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm--I'm sorry if I woke you up, or something, Shelly. I wasn't really planning on coming home tonight."

"No, I was too worried to sleep anyways. I was actually just reading." Shelly shrugged, taking a seat next to him.  They were both quiet, as she poked at the tablecloth. She looked back at him with a concerned face. "I... I saw the news...the charity bash...um...you're not hurt, are you?"

"I wouldn't be home right now if I was, you know I don't like coming hurt to you."

"Yeah, I know..." She motioned towards the plate, clearing her throat. "Um, are you hungry? I could warm that up for you if you wanted."

Frost eyed the plate, but shook his head. To be honest, he did like his wife's cooking, but after tonight, he did not even feel like finishing this beer off. And that was saying a lot.

"Uh, no thanks. Just wrap it in foil or--uh, I don't know. I ain't hungry." he admitted, pushing his beer back. "Tonight, was just...ugh. Well, let's just say I won't be wearing that jacket for a while."

"I can wash it for you, honey, it's not a problem."

Yeah, of course it wasn't a problem. Too many jackets he'd come home with blood on, or torn. She never questioned why, and she was well aware of his line of business, yet she never really bothered him about it, which he supposed, was why he'd fallen in love with her. She was almost like him in a way, only maybe a little more sensitive and caring. Always having the best advice, unlike Frost who could at the very best manage to agree and nod with everything his boss.

"Yeah....yeah, thanks, Shel..."  His own attention went back to the pictures, which he realized he still had sitting out. Shelly noticed them, her brow immediately crinkling with interest as she scooted her chair closer to get a better look.

"What are those?" she asked.

"Huh? These?" He took a small swig from the beer and pushed it aside again.

"Yeah, those. I know what they are but uh--" She gestured towards them. "I meant, whose are they?"

Oh. Yeah, of course.

He didn't want to tell her, he never wanted to talk about work or anything that was even going on at work. But she was always so curious, he wondered how she'd kept her questions to herself in the past. But she was asking now, and maybe it'd been his fault for not putting the pictures away fast enough.

"Well..." he paused, picking one up. "I don't know if you'd believe me, but it's Mister J's kid."

"What?" Shelly looked a little surprised, but he couldn't blame her. "Then why do you have them? Does this have anything to do with what you told me about last week, I mean...I know you only mentioned his um...you know, that girl he keeps around..."

"Harley."

"Yeah, her. You said he kicked her out after I asked you why you'd been busier lately. I get he's a little short-handed but..."

"That's not even the half of it." Frost muttered, picking his beer up but not drinking it. "You know how he is when she's gone.... but he's too damn stubborn to go get her back. The boys have had to pick up double since she's been gone, and it's not been pretty. He--Joker, he got shot tonight, Shelly. I swear, I don't know why it's bothering me so much..."

He groaned, letting his face rest in his hands. Shelly reached over, resting her hand on his shoulder and giving it a relaxing squeeze.

"It's because you care, Johnny. Even though you don't voice it, I know it." she said softly.  "And you know how much he trusts you--" That was true, he was one of the few people Joker had ever admitted to trusting except for Harley. "--Obviously you were trusted enough with the photos, whoever gave them to you...have you told him you have them yet?"

"No. Don't know if I want to either."

"Well, that's your own decision." She pushed her chair back to stand up. "But I think you should. Even if that is the reason he kicked Harley out and probably doesn't care...I know it's not any of my business, probably not any of yours...but it's not fair to have those and not let him know. He trusts you, remember?"

She got up, leaving Frost with those last words as she placed a kiss on his head and headed back to their room.

"Come to bed anytime you want, hon. I know you've got a lot to think about."

The lights were dim in the kitchen again, and he could hear the door opening and shutting. He sat alone in the kitchen again, knowing very well that his wife was right. Yes, yes, Joker did trust him, had said it--and he was keeping these pictures. Why? He knew he probably wouldn't want to see them...but Harley had trusted him enough to tell Ivy to give them to him. She must've been confident he would.

Two trains of thoughts flowed in his mind. Show the pictures or not? He'd have all night to decide, as he fully intended to back the penthouse tomorrow morning to check up on his boss...but as of right now, he really didn't know what he wanted to do.

The kitchen light was soon turned off, as he had gotten up, and tossed the half-drank beer into the trash.

\--

It was the loud ringing of her hotel room phone that woke Harley out of a dead sleep.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she tossed one of the lumpy pillows over her head, hoping the ringing would just stop. It was probably like 1 in the morning, even though in other times she'd still be awake, she was finding being pregnant was taking a good toll on her body and making her more tired than she should be, and she was only in her first trimester.

This hotel was such crap anyways, it'd taken two hours to get to sleep no thanks to the obnoxious noises coming from the upstairs room, and the train that constantly passed nearby. She didn't appreciate being woken up after just falling asleep.

Still, the phone persisted it's ringing, combining with the clamber of the same damn train passing by outside. Grumbling, Harley reached up, turning the light on, and grabbed the phone from its receiver. She didn't even bother checking who it was who was calling, there was only one person who knew she was here and one person who would bother calling her at this time of night.

Not even bothering to sit up, she pulled the pillow from her face, rubbing at her eyes.

"Mmm...hello?" Her voice was pretty thick with sleep, something of which the other person on the other end of the line could make out distinctly. That other person being Ivy, who had just gotten back to her apartment after the disastrous events of the gala. She would've called Harley directly after had she not left her cellphone at home, and she did feel a little bad for waking her up so late.

"Harley? Sorry, did I wake you up or something, I can call back--"

"Huh? Nah, it's fine, I was..." Harley sleepily mumbled, fighting back a yawn. She rubbed at her eye again, prying loose a sleepy tic. "I was already having trouble staying asleep anyways...whaddya want?"

"You better turn on the news right now, I think you're gonna want to see what's going on."

The directness of Ivy's voice woke her up a little more. This time, she allowed the yawn to pass.

"Why? What happened?"

"See for yourself." She could hear noise on Ivy's end, and the sound of her friend huffing.  Harley cocked an eyebrow, but did as she said. She grabbed the remote, and shortly afterwards, was met with the sight of the Gotham Event Center surrounded by police cars and ambulances.

Oh....yeah, the gala had been tonight, hadn't it? Well it definitely looked like Mister J had had some fun judging by the amount of bodies being hauled out on stretchers, she had to chuckle. If only she could have been in on it...

"Looks like Mistah J caused hell tonight." she snickered into the phone. "I didn't need to turn on the news to know that, Red. Besides, I told you to tell me about it tomorrow anyways, wouldn't that just be easier?"

"Yeah but--"

"Seriously, I need my sleep. Look, just...ugh...just meet me at the Bluebell Diner tomorrow, you can spill the beans then. Okay? Okay, goodnight."

"But Harley--"

She pressed the button to end the call and tossed the phone aside carelessly. Flopping back onto the bed with a sigh, she continued to watch the report on the news. It sucked, it really sucked that she was missing out on all the fun right now just because of the recent circumstances, but given that it had been almost a week since it happened, she'd began to try convincing herself that Joker would come around. That he'd come looking for her with the promise of not hurting the baby.

But it hadn't happened yet. And he'd gone ahead on his plans without her, just as he always did. She could see the causalities, they were so much more than usual. She never liked to see everybody dead straight away; she preferred there be more survivors, but they'd be too mentally scarred to even manage straight anymore. It was a little more fun to see someone's life ruined like that than to just see them dead then and there.

That was why she and her puddin' had clicked, that's what made them work together, both with opposing opinions that were bound to cause even greater harm than ever. It was probably going to be awhile before she'd ever get to have that kind of fun again.

Soon enough, the television had been turned off, the thoughts of missing out having been just a tad too depressing, and having to listen to what happened didn't sound appealing right now. She slipped back underneath the covers and was content to try going back to sleep.

If only she knew what had really happened that night. If only she'd waited to listen to what Ivy had had to say.

It wouldn't have nibbled at her mind until the sun rose.

\--

Despite everything, the next morning proved to be a somewhat peaceful one. No rain, just sunshine and wind. Everything looked completely normal, as if about a dozen people hadn't been murdered the previous night.

It was late morning, a whole day after the charity bash. Harley sat at the same booth table she'd sat at since the previous week, the same booth table at the Bluebell Diner, the diner that she had been frequenting for nearly every meal from the previous week up to now.

There was a small chatter from some other patrons, but nothing she paid attention to. She only seemed to be focused on a crossword puzzle that was displayed on the table in front of her, and absent-mindedly stirred her spoon around in the cup of tea next to her. Not that tea was her favorite drink, but she was really starting to miss her coffee and was damn determined to not betray her wants and get a decaf coffee despite Ivy's insistence.

Speaking of Ivy, she just so happened to be sitting across from her. A blueberry muffin sat in front of her, uneaten, and she had her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She looked half-asleep, but that probably had nothing to do with how much sleep she'd got and rather to do with her mood. The TV blared behind her, on the wall, and much to her displeasure it was on the news. God, _god,_ did she hate the news, if she had the remote right now she swore she'd change the channel herself, to anything other than what was being reported right now.

Because it wasn't anything new. It was everything she'd just told Harley, and why both women were sitting at the table in silence right now.

Last night should have been a peaceful and uneventful event, but this was Gotham, what could anyone have expected? Why was this even still big news, and why was it even still being reported? Joker hijacking some fancy event was old news as far she was concerned. She would have been content to let Harley just find out for herself what happened, if she hadn't promised. The news didn't report everything after all, and could never be trusted to be a reliable source.

But fuck did she hate having to tell her everything that happened.

They always met; 8:00 for breakfast, 12:00 for lunch. Sometimes 11:00 for brunch. In today's case, it was 11:00 for brunch, and Harley had already been seated in the same booth they always met at, the same blue-cushioned seats by the window. It would take a second glance to realize it was her; what with the black wig and dull clothes, but given that Ivy had picked out those things herself, she knew better than to look twice.

The other woman had waited eagerly while her friend positioned herself in the seat across from her, ordered her food, and became impatient whilst she delayed in telling the events of the gala. She'd tried her best to avoid the topic, even asking questions about the baby in hopes that'd sway Harley from her interest in what happened. But no, she should have known. She'd persisted, almost whined, and because Ivy did not want to cause a scene, finally relented and told her everything that happened.

She'd talked so fast, wanting to be done with discussing anything and everything involving the Joker, especially after the kind words the two of them had exchanged. It hadn't Harley had kept interrupting, wanting to know everything she possibly could. In retrospect, maybe her choice of words should have been kinder considering Harley's silence now. She wasn't sure if it was from that or from the barrage of news reports covering the topic. The diner owner had changed the station once or twice, but any local news channel in Gotham was reporting on it. Gosh, it was like they had nothing better to talk about.

If Harley had been smiling that morning, the weariness of the subject had caused it to vanish.

Ivy picked a blueberry out of her muffin, eyeing it before tossing it onto the ground. A small cat leapt off the counter nearby and darted over, snatching it up before running back to its perch where the diner owner was just setting down a saucer of milk. Ivy looked at it, then looked back at the still-silent Harley, who was still focused on the crossword puzzle. The clanging of the spoon in the tea cup, she had to admit, was beginning to drive her crazy.

"Harley..."

The clinging continued.

"Harley, c'mon. Can you please stop looking at that damn puzzle and talk to me?"

The clinging stopped momentarily, and only Harley's eyes spared a tiny glance towards her. From behind the glasses, they looked rather icy...not a good thing, considering this was Harley. Something had bothered her, clearly, something Ivy had said. She knew there was no pinpointing it, but she sighed, moving her hand from her chin and folding it underneath her arm.

"Finally, that clinging was driving me nuts." she muttered under her breath. 

Harley blinked at her, and as if on purpose, began to stir the spoon around again. The clinging resumed, causing Ivy's jaw to tighten. She tapped her fingers at the table, sighing and looking out the window briefly before turning her attention back to her friend.

"Okay, this is ridiculous. This, this silent treatment you're giving me, is ridiculous." she complained. "Look, I get it. I get it okay, I'm sorry I sounded so harsh. Can you please just...say something? Anything?"

"Do you know a four-letter word for disappointment?"

"Huh?" Ivy's face contorted, baffled by Harley having completely ignoring her. Yes, she had just ignored her, obvious by the fact she was still focused on that fricking crossword puzzle.

"A four letter for disappointment. It's literally the last word on this thing and I can't find it." she mumbled, scratching the pencil at the paper's surface. "No offense Red, but I can't focus when you keep naggin' me like that. At least help me out here."

"Har--ugh. Ugh, fine okay. How about..." Ivy slumped back slightly in the seat, groaning. "Okay, how about Joker. How's that."

"Huh...no. That's five words. And rude."

"Alright, geezus. To hell with the word limit, it fits."

"Pammy!" Harley looked up at her friend, that icy spark still evident in her eyes. She frowned, slamming the pencil down. "Seriously, he didn't piss in your corn flakes or anything, please."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't change what he did." The diner door opened and closed shut, evidenced by the bell dinging. An old couple was shown to the booth near Harley and Ivy by a teenage girl, as the two women continued their conversation. "I can't believe you're actually defending him, I didn't even tell you everything he said! Do you even know what he called you?"

"I ain't defendin' him, Red. Quit actin' like it." Harley took her spoon out from the cup, setting it down with a loud clank. Inside, she knew that was probably a lie. She was probably defending him, yeah, she was. She was. It was just like her, hell he'd gotten away with murdering dozens of people and she'd defended him then.

_You shouldn't be defending him, Harley. He tried to kill your baby._

_Look how better off you are without him._

She gritted her teeth at the voices in her head, the voices of so-called reason. They'd bothered her continuously since she left, since the moment she found about being pregnant. God were they so annoying...she almost missed taking her meds, but then again, maybe she didn't.

Just maybe.

_Oh, come on, Harley. Ivy's got a point, you know it._

"Shut up..." she muttered, gripping the pencil tightly in her hand. The cast wasn't off her left hand just yet, but it didn’t hurt to hold anything anymore. She'd break it again if it meant the voices shutting up. Not having said anything, Ivy knew this wasn't directed towards her, and instead resumed picking at her muffin.

Harley released the pencil, afraid that she would end up breaking it if she continued like this. Taking a small sip from her tea, she stayed silent as the voices transitioned into more pressing thoughts.

"What else happened..." Her small voice caused Ivy to look up, ceasing in picking at the muffin. "You never finished tellin' me, ya know..."

Ivy hesitated, twiddling several crumbs between her fingers. Their conversation regarding the gala and what happened hadn't exactly finished, it'd only paused the moment Ivy'd began to rant about her conversation with Joker, in which Harley had fallen silent and began to work on the crossword puzzle.

That was the exact reason they were in this mood now.

Well, no use in procrastinating tell her, she guessed. If the news hadn't mentioned it yet, someone had to.

"You mean...after the conversation, huh. Yeah. About that." Inwardly, Harley braced herself. She knew if Ivy was talking about that, it apparently hadn't ended well. Nothing ever did end well if both were in the same room.

"You didn't do anything to him did you, Red? You promised, remember?" she pressed, knowing very well the redhead was one to keep her promises, but if someone started out a conversation like that, you'd think they did the exact opposite of what they promised. Thankfully, Ivy quickly shook her head, very much eager to defend herself after the backlash she'd already gotten.

"No! I swear, I wanted to, but I swear I behaved." she insisted. "I never got a chance anyways, the Bat showed up and kind of took over that job for me."

Her heart dropped at the mention of Batman. Oh, it definitely hadn't ended well.

"And...?" She swallowed, her throat feeling dry despite having just taken a sip from her tea.

"And... well, he got shot."

"Who? Bats?"

"No, Harley. Jo--ugh...Joker did."

Cue her heart dropping even more than it had before, she was sure it was at her knees at this rate. Her hand shook and she sat her cup down, some of her tea spilling in the process. Why should she even be shocked at this, she knew he was bound to get himself injured somehow, she couldn't remember a time where he hadn't left an event unscathed. She'd always been around to patch him up, or at least, make sure he wasn't making Frost's life a nightmare while he whined about his injuries.

It'd happened so many times, and that was enough to show people wanted him gone _that_ badly.

But now at least she could understand Ivy's hesitance in telling her.

"He's okay though, right?" _Stupid question, Harley. Stupid. Of course, he's not okay you dumb nut, he got friggin shot._

"Is he okay?" Ivy snorted, cracking a grin of disbelief. "No, no he's just fine. He only got a bullet to the shoulder, nothing he can't handle." At the look on Harley's face, her grin disappeared and she sighed. "I'm just joking, Harley. If he can survive a burning helicopter then I'm sure one little bullet isn't going to kill him. Don't worry so much."

"With him?" It was Harley's turn to snort. "Nah, nah that's impossible. I don't know why you'd expect me not to."

"I'd expect you not to because he kicked you out on the street after almost beating your unborn child out of you. I can't believe you still care." Ivy leaned forward, lowering her voice as the couple in the booth behind them had shown curiosity at her and Harley's conversation. "At least you're being somewhat mature by not going back to him, I'll give you that much."

"And that doesn't mean I don't have to care. I'm always gonna care, Pammy. There's no changin' that." The other woman snapped, leaning forward in her own seat now. "I love my puddin', I always will. You know that."

After those words, her features fell soft, and she leaned back again, looking down at her stomach before pressing her hand onto it.

"But...you know I love my baby too. And that's the only reason I haven't gone back."

Ivy wanted to snap back asking if the only reason she wasn't going was because she was pregnant, but she didn't. She only blew out a sigh, and shook her head, pushing her muffin aside.

"I still think you're nuts--not that you weren't before." she stated. "But okay, okay, I obviously can't change your mind, God knows I've tried. Just don't make me spy on him anymore, okay? I don't think I can do that. I didn't even get to make a compelling argument to those damn city leaders to save my garden."

"I'd like it if you would, but if you don't wanna..." Harley's voice trailed, feeling a little dejected at her friend's sudden change of heart. Not that she couldn't blame her, the gala had not been the only time she'd had her following Mister J around in the first place, it was bound to have worn her out already.

"I don't. I'm done."

"Okay. Fine."

The clamber of the diner replaced their conversation for the next five minutes, as both women just picked at either their food or at the newspaper.  Harley almost picked up her pencil again, but her hand froze in midair and she led it fall onto the table, tapping her fingers against the marble quietly. 

She eyed Ivy, who was looking at her phone. She didn't bother looking at Harley, remaining quiet. Some sense in Harley tried to tell her that maybe she'd been a little selfish, especially after what Ivy had said about the garden. That was the reason she'd gone to the bash in the first place, and she'd taken advantage of that. She'd said her whole reasoning for not going was because she was feeling sick...but to be completely fair, that wasn't the entire truth. In reality, she was terrified to see Joker again. She didn't want to risk a single thing.

And now, it seemed like her list of allies would be back to 0 after today.

"I've gotta go." Ivy's voice brought her back to attention. Her friend had put her phone away, and was starting to slide out of her seat. "No thanks to my lack of efforts last night, I've got a lot of lost time to make up for. I'm sorry, Harley, but I really can't keep being your lackey. If you wanna know what's going on with him then you're on your own."

"I know, Red. I already said it was fine." Harley snapped, unable to contain the bitterness she was feeling.  "Just go on already, I'm sorry I made you waste your time."

Thankfully no one was even noticing their conversation, though some people had looked over in curiosity at the argument. Ivy stopped midway picking up her purse, not liking the sudden uncomfortable rift she felt. No, she wasn't going to leave Harley like this, not thinking that she didn't care, because she did, she really did.

She just had a bad way of showing it, always had.

"Um..." She slowly got up, shifting her purse up her shoulder. "I'll um...hey, if I have time...maybe...maybe we can get dinner later?"

No response.

"We can finish our conversation then...maybe..." She grit her teeth, not liking the words she was about to say. " _Maybe_ , I could find some time to keep an eye on things...if you really needed me to...I just...you know, I don't want things to get bad between us. You need someone you can trust, I know that. And you can't exactly get in touch with that bodyguard of his but..."

She shrugged.

"I guess I could try to manage, just for you. How does that sound?"

At this, Harley's expression lit up, and she slid out of her seat, throwing her arms around Ivy with a small happy squeal. It was amazing how quickly her mood could change, Ivy mused. Very hard to tell if it was mood swings or just Harley, at this rate. But she was happy at least some part of the rift was gone.

"Thank you, Red, thank you so much. You don't know how much that means to me." She pulled back, beaming from ear to ear. "We can meet right back here, 5:00. I have some shopping I wanna do first."

"And apartment hunting I hope?" Ivy raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Look, Harley, I like this place as much you do, but we really need to find somewhere more private to talk. You jumping from hotel to hotel is hurting my bank account."

"Wha? I ain't even spendin' your money, what are you talkin' about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I've still gotta pay for gas to come see you." She winked, and turned to leave. "No, you better have an apartment by the end of this week or I'm changing my mind on the whole spying thing. You can't just keep hotel hopping forever, you know."

She left, Harley going back to her seat. The door opened, shut, and the bell gave a little ring. Yes, Ivy did have a point. Not that she'd done much hotel hopping...but she'd done enough that would cost a regular person a fortune. She really needed to find some place to settle down before the baby came, not a lot of hotels came with cribs.

If only she was still back at the penthouse, what a nursery she'd craft. It'd be nothing but the best.

The crossword puzzle was still left unfinished, so she picked up her pencil and began to continue with it. The teenage girl who had shown the old couple to their booth came over, carrying two plates with her. She looked a bit confused at seeing Ivy was gone, and looked around.

"Hey, miss?" Harley looked up, gasping in delight at the sight of the food.

"Finally, I was starvin' over here." she shoved her paper aside and patted the table. "Just set those right here, please."

"But...it's two plates, didn't you order this for your friend?" The girl lifted the plate with the French toast on it as if to question, but Harley shook her head.

"Nah, that's all for me." she said. The girl looked a little confused, but sighed and set the plates down in front of the eagerly-waiting Harley.

"Alright then...enjoy, I guess..." No words, as Harley had already begun to devour the first slice on her plate. The girl looked back to see she wasn't even bothering to use her fork, but just shook her head and headed back to the counter where the owner of the diner was standing, writing something in a notebook. The television was still playing the same dang news report, and the owner looked up, sighing at the sight of it.

"Rae will you change that?" she asked a passing a waitress, who nodded and walked over to adjust the channel. The teenage girl propped herself on a seat, which swirled ever so slightly. Nearby, Harley had already consumed half her food and was now on to the second place, but she stopped upon catching some words from a conversation nearby. Mid-bite, she looked slightly over to see the girl was talking to the owner in a hushed voice. What could they be talking about, they hadn't heard her and Ivy's conversation had they? They hadn't heard her calling her "Harley", had she?

She realized now they had caught her staring, after seeing them both looking over at her. Quickly, she went back to eating as if she hadn't been watching them. Though, this didn't stop the owner from coming over. She stood next to the booth table, clearing her throat.

"Excuse me?"

Harley stopped mid-chew again, swallowing her food hard. God, her stomach was going to think she lost her teeth.

She glanced towards the woman, who had a surprisingly warm smile on her face.

"Yeah, hi. Sorry to interrupt, but I was just talking with my daughter, and she mentioned overhearing something about you looking for an apartment." At the blank expression Harley was giving her, the woman chuckled softly. "I apologize for that, she's got big ears. Got that from her daddy, I guess, always overhearing stuff."

Harley still said nothing, now using her fork to solemnly scoop her eggs. The owner bit her lip, then pushed herself into the seat opposite the other woman, startling her a bit. She folded her hands in front of her, her smile changing to a quieter look.

"Look, I'm sorry, I must have sounded really sudden just coming up to you like that." she stated. "It's just...well, we don't get a lot of customers, I tend to remember most of them. I tend to end up talking to them like they're friends...I guess it's a bad habit of mine."

"I'm not really in the mood to make new friends." Harley sullenly admitted, taking a tiny bite of her eggs. The woman eyed her, then slowly nodded, as if she understood.

"I get that, yeah. I do notice you keep to yourself a lot." she said. "But hey, look...if you really are looking for apartments, I just thought I'd mention we have some above the diner here. I own them, alongside this place..."

The smile came back, and she unfolded her hands, leaning back.

"If you're interested, I could give you a tour sometime later." At this, Harley glanced up again, though avert her vision from the woman. "Or --I don't know, it'd depend on what time, since I think I've got an appointment at the bank pretty soon...but hey, just some food for thought. You don't have to but..."

"I'd love to."

The suddenness of Harley's voice seemed to have caught the woman off-guard, and she blinked twice, obviously not having expected that answer. But in the span of time she'd kept running her mouth, Harley had thought about her options. She thought about her failed attempts at looking for apartments the previous weeks and the crappy hotels she'd stayed at; any longer, and she was going to go crazy if she didn't settle somewhere soon.

Not that she totally trusted this woman; hell, it wasn't like she had many people she could trust. Especially considering she was at risk of exposing herself if she kept jumping around so much, people would talk, already were, given that the Joker's number one had suspiciously gone off the radar.

"Really? I mean---it was just an offer..." she heard the other woman stuttering. "They really aren't the best apartments, to be honest, it's just--"

"Honey, after the luck I've had I'll take anything I can get." She interrupted, attempting a smile. _Maintain a normal facade, Harley. Maintain it._ "Plus, it's not like I got anything better to do. As soon as I'm done eatin', you think someone could give me a tour then?"

This did seem to cause the woman to light up a bit, and her smile returned.

"O-of course! Absolutely!" She let out a relieved gasp, and pulled herself out of the seat, though a bit slowly. "Well like I said, I uh--I actually have to be at the bank soon, but I guess I could ask my daughter if she could show you around. You don't mind, do you?"

"'Course not. Just as long as I get to see the place." _So casual. So frickin casual. I don't like this._ "I hope it's not too pricey."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of making anyone pay too much for those apartments." The woman snorted, now fully standing. "They're just average, really. Nothing special about 'em. Are you really sure you want to look at them though, like forgive me for being nosey but you do seem to spend quite a lot when you're here...I only thought you'd be looking for something nicer."

_Yeah, maybe she would be, if she wasn't trying to remain incognito for the time being._

"I already said I'd take anything I could get, lady. Whether your apartments have rats or not is the least of my concerns." _Very true, Harley. Well-played._ "Now I don't want to sound rude but uh, I'd kind of like to finish eatin' before we talk business or any of that crap. I don't like talking about this stuff on an empty stomach."

"I completely understand, miss. But hey, I'll tell my daughter before I leave...um--" Still smiling, the woman took a few backward steps as she headed back to the counter. The cat from earlier jumped off and she had to avoid stepping on it as it ran underneath her feet. "I'll just tell her to meet you upstairs, the staircase is in a hallway in the back, I'm sure you'll be able to find it."

"I'm sure I will." Keeping her own smile on was not comfortable, but Harley managed it. A fake facade was something she'd been good at her whole life, not only after her chemical dip, or her meeting with Mister J for that reason. It was a piece of Harleen she did not mind keeping around, as it came in handy in times like these.

Now the owner had left, and she went back to consuming her eggs. The thought of actually finding her own place to live both excited and scared her, as it had been years since she had her own actual place. The penthouse above the club was one she shared with her puddin', the only other place she'd had that was her own was the crappy one-bedroom apartment she lived in during her days as a psychiatrist at Arkham.

To think, this all part of the new start that was happening, whether she wanted it or not. No, quite frankly there was a part of her that still wanted to be back on the streets, on the news, for all the wrong reasons. But for now, she supposed her life was only going to consist of the mundane. It was something she'd forced herself to accept by now.

On the plus side, finally finding an apartment would be nice.

On the downside, Joker was back at the penthouse, without her. It was stupid to lament over to consider it'd already been a week, but after finding out about his incident with the Bat...she didn't know if not going back was wise after all. Sure, her baby was safer and better off, but her puddin'...

He'd end up getting himself killed before he ever accepted being a father.

He'd proved that already.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

_It was a quiet night, quiet, aside from the loud bickering of the married couple in the nearby bedroom of the small trailer. Quiet, aside from the loud noises that came from the old television set was precariously perched on a crumbling television set._

_A small boy, dressed in nothing but pajamas, sat on a ratted sofa, his legs crossed. His steely blue eyes were concentrated on whatever old show was playing on the TV, which looked to be an old Tom and Jerry cartoon. A bowl of uneaten cereal sat next to him, having gone soggy from sitting in milk so long._

_The voices of the adults drifted in and out on the boy's ears. He paid no mind to it._

_Or it seemed like he wasn't paying any mind to it._

_While his expression betrayed him, he was very much aware what was going on behind him. He was just choosing to ignore it._

_As always._

_A loud bang sounded, causing the boy to jolt. He didn't look away from the television, however. The voices came out of the room, followed by rather pounding footsteps. A man shouted several swears back at the scantily-clad woman behind him, before snatching a coat up from a nearby chair and storming out of the house._

_The boy shuddered in his seat, but never looked. He only spared himself a side-glance to the window as his father's old car could be heard starting up. It was a pitiful sound to hear, the wheezing of the engine and the coughing...almost like it was ill._

_A small pain subsided in the back of the boy's head as the woman came up behind him, and upon noticing the mess of the current area he sat in, what with it being covered with several broken toys, delivered a smack to the back of his head. She shouted at him, to get up possibly, but he didn't move._

_She smacked him again._

_He still didn't move._

_Smack._

_No movement._

_Smack._

_Shing._

_There was silence in the room again, save for the cartoon once more. Blood pooled onto the floor._

_The woman looked down at her abdomen in surprise, in pain. A small pair of scissors was clutched in the boy's hand. He stared up at her, emotionless, coldly. He blinked._

_It wasn't long before the neighbors could hear the loud scream that shook through the thin walls of the trailer._

_\--_

The Joker's eyes opened, a strangled yelp escaping his throat, as he pulled himself up in bed.

Maybe it had been the scream in his dream that had woken him.

It was a possibility.

And maybe it was the dream that had given him the cold sweat that was glistening on his skin.

He hadn't exactly bolted upwards, straight away anyways. Had tried, but the pain in his shoulder had caused him to freeze in place. Grunting, he clutched at the bandage wrapped tightly around his bullet wound, and released a pained groan. A stitch felt like it had come loose, but given that there was nothing staining the bandage right now, that was more than likely a thought out of paranoia.

The room was like a freezer, but this didn't seem to faze him any.  He just hung his head in his hands, massaging his aching temples. It felt like he'd been in a coma for a decade with how much his body ached, but this was just child's play for him. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to, but that didn't change the fact that everything still hurt like a bitch.

Cars could be heard beeping, honking their horns outside, some even whirring by. Other than that, his ears were met with an eerie silence, one that he'd woken up to for about a week now.  He wanted to say he was used to it, but even now, looking at the empty side of the bed, that was still very much neatly made, filled him with some kind of burning pain in his chest. And the lack of not hearing the shower running, followed by Harley's sing-song voice, worsened that pain to a blinding extent.

This wasn't the pain he liked, damn it all.

To dull the burning sensation which had now made its return, he smacked at the sewn-up bullet wound on his chest, several times, to a point where he was sure he must have popped at least one stitch. It hurt, but it distracted him from the other pain. Harley was not an issue, had not been an issue, he'd kicked her out and it'd happened a whole week ago. He needed to quit thinking like this.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, rubbing the sleep off his eyelids. Another car horn sounded outside, closer this time, and he was almost tempted to open the window and throw the television out on it. But given that he'd possibly popped one stitch already, it might be wise to avoid heavy lifting for the time being.

But then again, since when had he ever followed doctor's orders?

Speaking of which, he wondered where the doctor was. He was barely conscious upon showing up the penthouse, but he vaguely remembered the man hovering over him like a hawk. He always stayed around, at least until he woke up. Given the many times the older man had had to make a house call though, Joker wasn't really all that surprised he'd gone ahead and left this time.

He'd probably just assumed he'd recover, which he was right. One little bullet wasn't going to be enough to kill him. Bats would just have to save his celebration for another day.

Well, what was done was done. At least it'd been fun.

_Could've been more fun, J, if only Harley had been there. Can you imagine it?_

Another version of his own voice taunted him in his head, but he ignored it. No, no he didn't want to imagine that. Didn't want to, didn't need to. He was not weak or dependent and he'd handled that whole ordeal rather nicely, if he did say so himself.

_But you got shot, J. Shot like a deer during hunting season. Maybe, if someone had noticed the woman had a gun..._

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Joker growled and delivered another smack, but to his head this time. He did not need any of this right now, wasn't recovering from this bullet wound enough torment already? Knowing that damn doctor, he'd probably ordered him to be put on bed rest.

Well, he definitely didn't want to stay in bed all day. That would just give the voices more time to taunt him if he was left alone with his thoughts.

So, ignoring any more taunts, any jeering, he threw off the heavy silk bed covers and stumbled out of bed. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of black pants, debatably the same ones he'd worn last night.  His bloodstained shirt was gone, leaving only the bandage as coverage. Snatching up a purple robe that had been left hanging on a vanity chair, he threw it on and headed out of the room.

Upon entering the living room, he wasn't surprised to see none of the boys hanging around. It was possible they were all downstairs in the club's lounge, given that that might be a wiser place to keep watch for any suspicious characters that might be hanging around. Couldn't risk anything like that, could they?

Especially not if word got out that he was short one Harley.

He would hate that. He would. Especially given that everyone, possibly everyone, knew how he was without her. Even though it had been a week, he'd kept to himself and not spoken to any other criminals who had stopped off at the Grin and Bear It. Oh how he could just imagine them talking...teasing him...

_The Joker without Harley Quinn? What kind of world is this?_

He was sure to endure ridicule and be called out, and that would mean his gun would be emptied in just a minute afterwards.

He didn't need her, damn it. He'd show them, if word ever did get out. It was bound to now that and he and Ivy had shared words. The fact that she'd talked smack was still agitating him, severely. She'd been the first to know about this whole scenario, he wouldn't be shocked if she was yucking it up with some other Gotham criminal and spilling dirt on the whole situation.

_Like he gave a fuck._

Yet he did. No, he couldn't have people thinking he was weak right now. Sure, yeah, he was kinda physically weak given that he'd just been shot, but emotionally? That was debatable-- _no. No, he wasn't. Couldn't._

The door to his study opened and he reached him, turning on one of the lamps. A small light flooded the previously dark room and he padded in, over to his desk. Stopping at the front of it, he leaned against it, wincing slightly from the pain in his shoulder. It did feel a little damp in that area, now that he thought about it. Fuck.

Okay, it was probably not that bad. Unless more stitches came undone, he didn't feel like getting scolded like he was a little boy again. Though it was hard to imagine he ever was a little boy.

Not like in that dream he'd had.

It was still in the back of his mind, even as he brought himself around the desk and pulled a bottle of whiskey off the shelf, alongside a shot glass. He had no idea what that dream had meant, but he could've sworn it seemed so familiar. Nothing he'd end up forgetting about soon enough, and possibly dreaming about again.

But this wasn't even the first time he'd had a dream like this. They'd been re-occurring rapidly since Harley's departure. Since he'd found out about...well. That was over with already.

The whiskey tasted bitter as he swallowed it, though not quite bitter enough for him to pull a face. His expression did sour momentarily, and he inspected the drink in his glass. Shrugging, he sat the bottle down, and sank into his seat, sighing. He shook around the whiskey for a bit, watching the dark liquid swirl around in a mesmerizing pattern. He let it distract him, until he decided to take another swig from it and sit the glass down.

The sound of the door opening caused him to look up as he poured himself another drink. It wasn't surprising to see that it was none than Frost, who looked surprised to find his boss up. Though not too surprised, he regained his composure and coughed, shutting the door behind him.

"Boss--um, you're up." The door clicked. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, Johnny. Just fine and dandy." Joker responded dryly, setting the glass down. The low tone of his voice told Frost that his boss was anything but fine, but he just nodded and stood in front of the door awkwardly.

"W-well, it is nice to see up, sir. The boys were concerned about you."

"Huh. Yeah, sure." The Joker eyed the whiskey in his glass again before taking another sip. His lips puckered again and he almost gagged, turning his head to the side. Noticing Frost still standing at the door like a kid in a principal's office, he waved his hand for him to come over.

Though he was given permission, Frost still came over, very hesitantly at the same time. Joker got up from his seat and grabbed another shot glass from the book shelf, pouring himself another glass and filling the other, which he offered to Johnny. The other man eyed it, but he shook his head.

"You sure? I paid like, 100 bucks for this crap." Joker still held the glass out, but Frost still shook his head. It wasn't every day that his boss offered him a drink, and while he would gladly take it, he was on the job right now. Shifting his injured shoulder, his boss just sighed and pulled the glass back, going back to his seat.

"Alright, have it your way." he muttered. Halfway, he slunk down in his chair and swung back in forth in it, both glasses now set on the desk. He picked one up, downing it in a matter of seconds. The way he acted was so subtle and quiet, it almost scared Frost. Would've scared him if he hadn't seen his boss act this way before.

"Mister J, are you sure that's good for you right now...?" He motioned towards the second glass of alcohol, which Joker had picked up. His boss briefly eyed him, not moving from his slumped position. A scowl came over his face, and he sneered.

"Johnny, do you know what they used to dull pain back in the old days?" he questioned. Frost opened his mouth but Joker responded before he got the chance, tapping the glass in his hand, before taking a long sip from it, not downing it quite as quick as he had the other one.

"You...make your point quite clearly, sir."

"Heh, don't I always..." Now empty, the glass hit the desk with a clank and J sighed, relaxing back in his seat. He would've gladly lifted his hands behind his head as further means of relaxing, but stitches were preventing him from doing so right now, so instead, both arms rested on the arm-rests of the plush seat.

His eyes closed, he peeked one open to see Frost still standing there awkwardly. He couldn't help but mentally note how fidgety the man seemed; he never seemed this fidgety, even back in his early days of working for the crazed clown. There was something just slightly off; it couldn't be because he was witnessing his injured boss up and drinking alcohol like it was no big deal, acting like he hadn't been shot the other night.

No, no, this was normal for him. Something was clearly bothering the man but Joker chose not to comment upon it. It had never been beneficial in the past; he much rather preferred playing guessing games until the egg cracked.

"How's the inventory from last night?" Frost startled, apparently having been deep in thought as his eyes blinked at the sound of Joker's voice. He cleared his throat and straightened, folding his hands together in front.

"It's all accounted for. I had it taken to the spare warehouse earlier this morning." He adjusted his position, shuffling his feet on the carpet. "We got everything we were owed, plus a little extra. I think it's bound to make us some good cash."

"No..."

"Sir?'

Joker shifted his eyes across at his right-hand man, having turned his chair to the side to stare at the wall for no good reason

"We're keeping everything. No selling."

Frost lowered his head, quietly nodding.

"Of course. Whatever you say."

Aside from the whirring of the air conditioning, the room fell silent once more. The atmosphere in the room was quiet, and thick, almost like the fog that was floating past the windows outside, which were visible through the heavy, purple curtains that covered them. Frost didn't seem as if he wanted to spill whatever was on his mind, which was beginning to strike Joker as odd. Normally his right-hand man was an open book; had sworn to be, had sworn to never keep any secrets from his boss.

His actions were still resembling that of a kid in a principal's office. Awkward at the entrance, even more awkward and restless in front of the desk. He was bound to crack one of these days, but the Joker was finding he just simply wasn't patient enough to wait. In any normal circumstance he could've, but he had to admit, his curiosity was piqued. Seeing a henchman act restless was normal, but Frost? The man's emotions were about as thick as a brick wall, he was a hard individual to shake.

Joker moved to pouring another shot of whiskey into his glass.

"So...is there a reason, you were uh...is there something you needed to ask me?" he questioned.

"Sir?" Frost almost looked surprised, but maintained a quiet expression.

"I didn't call for you. You were opening the door like you assumed I wouldn't be here." The coolness in Joker's voice was not a tone he used often, but when he did, it often meant you were in trouble. He sat the bottle down, yet didn't take any sip from his glass, just holding it in his hand as he turned his chair to face Johnny. Looking straight up at him, Joker continued to hold the glass in his hand, caressing his fingers against it. His nails scratched at the glass, making a faint squeaking sound.

"Why would you assume such a thing...that I wouldn't be here, Johnny? Did you really think a small bullet wound would be enough to keep me in bed all day?"

"It hasn't in the past, Mister J, I don't assume anything these days." Frost half shrugged, shifting back a few steps. "I just thought you'd want the rest after the excitement last night...and to see if maybe there was anything else I could tend to for you."

"Mmhmm...and you didn't think I'd mind if you just snooped around in here all day?"

"No--"

"Do you need a reminder of who is in charge here, Johnny?" His voice, even cooler, now entangled with a short snarl, as he pulled his chair closer. Where there would be eyebrows on his face was furrowed, his eyes glaring at the man in front of him. "If I wanted you to take care of things, I would've told you. No coming in here without my saying so, are we understood?"

Stoically, Frost nodded.

"We're understood, sir, I'm sorry."

"You better be. You're the longest right-hand man I've had, Johnny, I'd hate to lose you over something like this."  Finally, Joker took a long sip from his glass, not gagging this time. The bitterness wasn't really bothering him anymore. There had been some sincerity in his words; he wasn't always so sincere, or serious for that matter. He was being genuine when he said those words, Frost should consider himself lucky. Which he did; he considered himself lucky he hadn't met the same fate as the other right-hand men the Joker had had in the past.

Now the atmosphere was a little less thick, and Frost shuffled closer to the desk. He felt a little less tense now than he'd had when he'd entered, but there was still something nagging him in the back of his head. Perhaps the worst part of this conversation was yet to come, even though the words prior to what was coming had been rough enough. He'd already hit a strike one today, did he dare risk a strike two?

Probably not. But he knew his boss must be suspecting something else by now; he'd have to say something about what was on his mind eventually. He couldn't just use his coming-to-the-room unpermitted as a reason for his mood, the Joker would see right through that. It was a talent of his; maybe not a good talent in the case of the people he talked to.

Amid his train of thoughts, he hadn't realized he was staring straight over at his boss. Thankfully the man hadn't seemed to notice until now, having previously been going at his whiskey glass again. Lowering it, Joker cast a perturbed glance towards Frost.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was there something else?" His voice indicated an annoyed curiosity. "Or are you just in the habit to ogle me today?"

_There was truly no backing out now, there was no way he was going to be able to get out of this without talking._

Clearing his throat, Frost straightened his stance.

"Sorry sir--I was just--" he coughed, unfolding his hands. "I was just thinking. Last night--um, you and Ms. Isley. You knew that was her, didn't you?"

This earned a short laugh from the Joker and he sat his glass down on the desk.

"Of course I did, how do you think she got out of there alive?" he said. "Even I'm not stupid enough to try anything against that woman, trust me when I say I was tempted. If I didn't wanna risk getting strangled by a vine or--or whatever, I'd have smacked the taste out of her mouth."

So that conversation hadn't gone well. Not surprising.

"What did she say that could've been that bad?" Frost tried to ask without sounding too invested, though he was mildly interested in what exactly Ivy had said to his boss, if he was talking like this. Not a lot of people had the guts to actually speak up him to like that; in fact, only a few did. Namely Batman, and in this case, Poison Ivy.

Joker snorted, picking his glass back up again.

"It's not just what she said, it's how she said it." he pointed out. "She used such an....accusatory tone, you know? Lecturing me about how to treat women and that--that I should let Harley keep that thing inside her, how I should accept it as my kid."

He finished off the whiskey at the bottom of the glass.

"Nah, nah I'm actually grateful Bats showed up when he did, otherwise that conversation would've turned into an episode of Dr. Phil or some crap." Clank. The glass hit the wooden desk, being shoved aside as Joker pulled out a large bulk of paper from the desk drawer. His attention was re-focused on the files he seemed to be shuffling through, which detailed a lot of the club reports.

Frost still stood near him, careful not to be caught staring at him again.  He coughed into a fist, his throat feeling dry. Damn, maybe he should've taken his boss up on that offer of a drink, he could definitely use it now.

He stayed quiet, not quite sure of what to say now. His mind still nagged at him to mention the fact he, too, had spoken to Ivy, but after hearing what she'd had to say to Mister J... maybe that wouldn't be a good idea.

_But the pictures..._

_Harley wanted you to give them to him._

Yes, yes, she did. But was now a good time to hand them over?

He turned, intending to head back to the door. His boss didn't even seem to notice, too transfixed on the club reports. It was as if their conversation had never happened. This would be a great time to leave, a fantastic time, even...

But even as he started towards the door, to leave...something stopped him. That something being the pictures that were currently burning a hole in his coat pocket. No, he'd left them, hadn't even taken them out except for when Shelly put the coat in the laundry. They'd been there the whole morning and now...

Huh.

What the hell, he was going to have to do this eventually. It was like peeling off a band aid; it was better to give it over with than delay it any longer. But he had a feeling that Mister J wasn't going to be too ecstatic to see them, let alone know that Frost had been entrusted with them. Screw his conscience for being such a goody two shoes; how could he not mind something as horrible as murder, yet something as simple as giving his boss pictures of his future child was eating away at him.

It happened very quick; him turning around, striding back to the Joker. Right as J lifted his head, the pictures were removed from Frost's pocket and slapped onto the desk, right atop the reports. Frost stepped back, waiting. However, his boss didn't have the reaction that he had expected; instead, he looked confused for a minute, then perplexed.

He stared at the photos, not even touching them, and blinked, before staring up at Johnny in question.

"What are these?"

"What do they look like, boss? They're photos from an ultrasound."

Joker blinked again, raising his non-existent eyebrows. He shrugged, and brushed them aside, looking back at his reports. This reaction only prompted Frost to scoop them back up and put them back into place. His actions annoyed Joker and he swept them aside again.

"Johnny, if you don't mind, I have a lot to do. Could you maybe save the joking around for when I'm in a good mood?" he snapped, picking up a file.

"I'm not joking around, sir. Those are real photos."

"And what? You want a congratulations?" His boss eyed him from behind the file he was looking at. "I thought I made it clear I wasn't a family man, Johnny; I never took you for one either. Don't expect any time off though, paternity leave is nonexistent in this career."

_Wait, wait what?_

It was now dawning on Frost that his boss assumed these pictures were of his own child. Oh...oh hell no. He would've known if this was his kid; Shelly would've known before he did and she would've been jumping all over him about it, just like the first and only time she'd gotten pregnant. That wasn't something he wanted to repeat.

"Mister J, these aren't mi--these aren't Shelly's." Frost shoved the files aside and slid the pictures closer across the desk. J ignored him, either being really engrossed in the report or pretending to read it.

Against his own will, the other man reached over and slapped the report down, now growing rather aggravated. It was not every day Johnny grew aggravated with his boss, but this was a serious situation, and even he had to admit he was being immature about it.

"Damn it, J, this is your kid!" he snapped, then quickly lowered his tone after seeing the look on his face. Joker had almost seemed like he'd wanted to clobber Frost for knocking the reports out of his hand, but his body froze upon hearing him speak. 

 "These--these are Harley's pictures..." Frost's tone was a lot soberer now, and he stepped back. "They're hers, not Shelly's. Ms. Isley gave them to me last night before...before the heist."

As expected, the Joker was not saying much. His focus, his expression, going back and forth repeatedly from the pictures to his right-hand man. He looked...conflicted? Angry? Yeah, that seemed about right. Given that he still wasn't talking, Frost took as his chance to speak again.

"I was gonna tell you eventually...but I talked to Ms. Isley last night too. I asked her about Harley, how she was doing..." he said, careful to keep his voice level. "She's still doing okay, if you wanted to know. No one's found her yet from what Ms. Isley said."

Joker still said nothing. Too many thoughts had crammed into his mind, and to the surprise of himself and Frost, found himself picking up one of the photographs to look at. He didn't want to look at it, didn't know why he was looking at it; yet he couldn't stop looking at it. His eyes stayed locked on it, on the tiny, blobby form in the picture. He felt his heart race, and his mind started clouding up on him again.

_"It looks like she's getting bigger. See?" She pointed at the picture, he remembered her nails were painted red that day, it was hard not to given the dull colors of the picture. The red stood out against the blacks and greys._

_He took the picture from her, smiling at the image of the fetus on it._

_"Heh. I still say she looks like you." he jeered, earning a gasp and smack from the woman next to him._

_"Shut up, you asshole!" Despite her words, she smiled, taking the picture back. He wrapped his arm around her, and the two of them stayed seated on the couch, both looking down at the picture. He squeezed her shoulder gently, her laying her head against his._

_"It won't be much longer now..." she murmured. His hand moved to caressing her stomach, which protruded underneath the dress she was wearing. He closed his eyes._

_"No, not much longer at all...I can't wait for her to get here."_

_"Me either." She looked back at him, her smile returning. The two exchanged a small kiss, as a taxi loudly beeped outside, whirring by._

That, or the loud taxi had come from reality, stirring Joker out of his fantasy. His pupils dilated, having previously been shrunk, and his mouth curled, him now tearing the picture in half and tossing it into the trashcan. He opened his drawer and fumbled around for a lighter while Frost stood in front of him in silence, though his teeth were clenched.

He'd expected this reaction. He didn't even move to stop his boss as he lit the lighter and tossed into the can with carelessness.  The flames made small crackling noises and Joker shot a nasty glare Frost's way, telling him now would be a grand time to make a run for it.

"Get out." he snarled, jabbing his finger at him.  "Bring me one of these pictures again and you can consider yourself next on the chopping block, got it?"

He shook his finger violently, enough to get his point across.

"Boss, I'm sorry I--"

"OUT!"

His fist slammed down on the desk, causing it to jolt. Several papers and files fell to the floor. This action was all Frost needed to convince himself he'd made a huge mistake in telling him now (not that any other time would've been better), and he turned, heading straight for the door. As he opened it though, he spared a last glance back to his boss, who was clawing at his hair, his form bent over.

Sighing quietly, he left, shutting the door behind him. It clicked.

When he made sure that Frost had gone, Joker sat up, grumbling upon noticing the fallen files on the ground. He still grumbled, even as he moved to pick them up, and filed through them, tossing any he deemed unnecessary into the already-burning trashcan, alongside the torn picture.

It was when he scooped up the last file did he find the second ultrasound.

He almost didn't want to pick it up. The vision from earlier threatened to replay, but he shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of it. _It was just a photo, it was just a damn photo, why was he acting this way? It was pathetic, it was--it was stupid. Weak._

Still...

His fingers hovered over the photo. His mind was almost daring him to pick it up, taunting him the more he hesitated. Snapping his head to the side, he growled and snatched it up, falling back in his seat with a loud sigh. The thoughts had been fought off long enough, this time, he was able to look at the picture without anything to distract him.

It was just...it was just a small blob in the picture. It was barely a human being.

Yet it was still alive.

_Sure, it's still alive, that one hit wasn't enough to kill it, J. Why would you hope for that?_

For many reasons, obviously. He had hit her pretty hard with that cane.

_But it wasn't enough. It's still alive and she's still having it._

He ran his thumb over the picture, looking to the burning can nearby. Almost, he almost wanted to toss it in... yet nothing in his mind was telling him to except for his own negative thoughts. The annoying ones were unfortunately back and telling him otherwise. God if he knew who to listen to.

Without as much as a second thought, Joker opened his desk drawer and tossed the picture in, shoving it as far back as he possibly could alongside the files he hadn't burnt. The drawer was pushed shut, and the chair was pushed back, J getting up from his seat. His shoulder ached, and was all but killing him now, but he could care less about that.

What he cared more about was the stirring ache he was beginning to feel in his heart.

And he didn't like it in the least bit.

\--

A whole other week passed.

Ivy walked down the street, a potted plant in her hands. For once, it was a very pleasant day in Gotham, things seeming as if they had cooled down since the Joker's grand show at the charity bash. It was almost amazing how Gotham seemed to cope with things like this, as if they were the norm.

Which, they were. This city wasn't exactly your ideal suburbia.

Unfortunately for Ivy, she'd failed in saving her beloved city garden from destruction. Not that she'd blame it on Joker, as much as she wanted to...she'd really thought she was getting somewhere with that Wayne guy. She'd had to take her attentions to another CEO, whom she'd almost had wrapped around her finger before Batman had shown up and ruined the party.

And that had all occurred within the span of the previous night. Needless to say, she was feeling particularly bitter today.  Well, hopefully the little excursion she was going on today would take care of that. Harley had called earlier that morning to tell her she was finally moving into an apartment and needed help with decor and the lot.

Any excuse for Ivy to blow off steam after failure, plus she was looking forward to relaying the whole tale of her escapades to her friend. Keeping a low profile was taking its toll on Harley and it was evident she was starting to miss kicking butt and causing trouble. The least Ivy felt she could do was fill her in on what she was missing. Who knew, it might've been fun had they both been in on the deed last night.

One could only dream for the time being.

Ivy stopped at a streetlight and waited, taking a moment to whip out her phone. Swiping at the screen, she heard footsteps coming up next to her, but didn't bother looking. People walked on the street all the time, it wasn't anything you needed to stare at.

It wasn't until the person next to her cleared their throat, twice, did she look. Not so surprisingly, she cut her eyes to the side to see Johnny Frost standing next to her. Saying nothing, she went back to typing in a reply to the text she'd been reading.

"Are you making it a habit to stalk me now? I thought you were a married man." she quipped. Frost ignored her statement.

"That's got nothing to do with this, Ms. Isley. This won't take long."

"It won't, you say?" She cocked her head to the side at him. "Don't tell me. Your boss sent you out here to squeeze Harley's location out of me. Won't work."

"I'm here on my own accord." The streetlights turned yellow. "You don't have to tell me anything, in fact, I’m here to tell you something, actually."

"Yeah? And it's probably something I don't care about. Especially if the clown's concerned." Ivy tugged back a strand of hair out of her face, looking up as the traffic in front of her slowed to a stop. "I'll just be on my way then, thanks."

Before her foot had even left the sidewalk, she halted, half-expecting Frost to stop her. He didn't. He stayed in the precise spot he'd walked upon. Taking this as her queue to leave, she started again. But was once again, stopped.

"I gave him the pictures, Pamela."

She didn't go back to him, only turning her head to face him. Her eyebrows shifted upwards in disbelief.

"You--what?"

"Mister J. I gave him the ultrasound photos...last week." Frost lowered the sunglasses he was wearing, revealing a rather sullen gleam in his expression. "Needless to say, he um, he wasn't too thrilled about it."

 _"Well shit, I didn't expect him to be."_ Ivy wanted to say, but instead, she bit her lower lip. No, she'd definitely not expected him to react joyfully to them. Despite Harley believing he'd be okay with it by now, she didn't know what it was going to take to make her see nothing was going to change that man's mind. She sighed, simply, and turned back to the facing the street.

"So, I take I won't be delivering any more pictures to you, then..."

"Nope. He left a nice threat on my head if I bring him anymore of them." Several passersby going past the two conversing caused Frost to lower his voice, coming closer to Ivy. "Look, if Ms. Quinn's still stuck on this whole thing...you can keep bringing the pictures. I'll just...hang onto them--or something."

"And lie to Harley? Are you serious?"

"It's what's gotta be done, I'm sorry. Didn't you say she got upset the last time you tried backing out of spying? I wouldn't risk upsetting her any further." Frost huffed and looked across the street, putting his glasses back on. "It's your decision if you wanna keep bringing me the pictures, Ms. Isley. Have a good day."

Ivy opened her mouth to respond, but Frost was already crossing the street. He disappeared around the corner of the old diner, obscured from Ivy's view.  Clamping her mouth shut, she inwardly growled. Quickly, she too crossed the street in time to avoid a car that had clearly not been paying attention to the stoplights, and entered the old Bluebell diner. It wasn't too busy, as usual, save for the elderly ladies playing bingo at a booth table nearby.

A loud meow alerted Ivy to the old staircase nearby, and she looked over to see a cat running down it. She narrowly avoided stepping on the feline's tale as she came over, and stepped onto the first stair, and ran up them, trailing one hand on the railing. They felt a little weak beneath her feet, so she quickened her pace until she was up on the second floor and turned a corner.

She went down the hall, checking her phone again for the number Harley had said her apartment was. A lot of the numbers on the doors were broken, or faded, so it was hard to tell which one was which. Harley's apartment was apparently 230, but Ivy couldn't decipher one door number from the other, she couldn't even tell if she'd passed 230 already.

It became easier to locate however, when she noticed a mother and her son leaving an apartment at the farthest end of the hallway. A young woman with black hair and a familiar pair of glasses was poking her head out of the door, talking to them with a smile on her face. Ivy couldn't help but crack a smile herself and headed over, passing by the mother and son as Harley waved goodbye to them. She instantly noticed her friend and squealed, opening the door up wider.

"Red!! Hi!" She instantly threw her arms around Ivy, as if she hadn't seen her in a long time. It'd really only been a few days, but Ivy didn't mind. With Harley having to keep out of the spotlight, their meetings were becoming more and more rare with each passing day. Anytime she got to spend with the blonde was time she relished.

But even as they hugged, she felt a twinge of anger at knowing what she knew. Knowing that Joker still didn't care and still wouldn't accept his child. Part of her burned at this, wanting so badly to just spill it all to Harley, but.... yeah, Frost had had a point. Upsetting Harley even more wasn't going to help or solve anything. But neither was lying to her.

Now was not a time to reflect on negativity, however.

Pulling back from the embrace, Ivy glanced over the woman and her son, who were going back into their own apartment now. She smirked back at Harley, chuckling a little bit.

"Getting chummy with the neighbors, are we? I hope you're not considering replacing me, I'd be hurt." she chided teasingly, earning a pout from Harley.

"Aw Pammy, you know I'd never do that. I hate socializing with these people, they're too--" She gagged, spitting her tongue out. "Ugh. Too bland and--and normal. I'm glad you're here though, now you can do all the talking in case anyone else shows up, since that's what you're good at."

"Hey now, I only came over to help you get settled. I'm not talking to anyone I don't wanna talk to." Ivy held up the potted plant she'd been carrying. "Here, a little something to brighten the place up. I didn't think you'd gotten a chance to decorate yet."

Harley took the plant, stroking the petals.

"Aw thanks, but I've actually already done a bit of decorating today. Wait'll you see." She lowered the plant, turning around to head back inside. "The people in this complex are a bunch of saps, Red, you gotta see what they've been droppin' off for me. That lady that just left? She brought me a paintin' and some little old wall clock."

"Are you kidding?"

"Nope! Come see!" Harley motioned with her hand for Ivy to follow her as she headed back into the apartment, and with a small shrug, the redhead followed. Once inside, she instantly became agape with surprise at the sight of not only the items Harley had mentioned, but several boxes full of various knick-knacks and decor. She walked over and traced her hand over the painting, while Harley headed over to a windowsill to place the plant.

"Isn't it great? Look at all that junk, didn't have to pay a cent for it!" When she'd done that, she turned around, snickering while she leaned against the sill. Ivy had picked up a ceramic cat, turning it over in her hands to inspect. "People've been dropping this stuff off since I woke up this mornin'. Word must spread quick in this place."

"Word? What word?" Ivy glanced at Harley, cutting her a curious glare. "What have you been telling them about yourself?"

"Not much. I only spoke to the landlady's daughter while she was givin' me the tour, ya know? She was askin' questions and stuff, wanting to know why I was moving into a--and I quote--" Harley made air-quote motions with her fingers as Ivy put the cat back into the box. "A dump like this. Anyways, I may or may not have told her...um, that my abusive ex-husband had left me penniless and kicked me out to the street because I was pregnant. I guess she must've told her mom and--well, next thing I know, people kept knockin' on my door and I didn't get to sleep in. They've been at it all day."

"I don't believe it." Ivy shortly-laughed, picking up a teddy bear from a chair that had seen better days, tossing the bear to the side as she sat down, crossing her legs. "Harley, you're horrible! Playing off these people's sympathies--that's just--"

She stopped short, noticing the smug grin on her friend's face. She gasped, a smile coming over her face out of realization.

"You little shit, you've been enjoying this haven't you?"

"Did I make it that obvious? Sorry." Harley moved from her spot at the window. She stopped at the sofa where a large box sat, and snatched up a hackysack, starting to toss it around in her hands. She paused.

"Actually, no, I'm not sorry. I've haven't had people eatin' outta my hand for a long time and I'm gonna savor every second of it." Tossing the hackysack back into the box, she jabbed her thumb towards the kitchen.  "Like, look, even last night; the chef from the diner dropped off some leftovers for me. And the old lady who lives across from me brought a cherry pie over and even let me pet her dog! I tell ya, Red, this place is seventh heaven."

"Still though, is it really fair for you to prey off people's sympathy for you?" Ivy crossed her legs. Harley only cackled at this and plopped down on the part of the sofa that wasn't being occupied by the box.

"Maybe not. I don't even know why you're questioning it though; I thought you did that all the time."

Oh shit. Fair enough.

This silenced Ivy and she looked dumbfounded for a second, emitting a small groan that made Harley giggle.

"Gotcha." She jumped up, moving the box to the coffee table. "Okay, enough chitchat. Let's get on with unpacking this junk before anyone else shows up or else I'm gonna need a bigger apartment."

"It'd be your own fault, I wouldn't be feeling the least bit sorry for you."  Ivy snorted and moved to get up from her seat and came over, picking up one of the boxes, while Harley scooped up another one. She peered over at it, noticing an array of colorful array of baby blankets and bedsheets.

"Cute. Who gave you the baby stuff?" she asked, setting the box back down to pick up a wall clock from it.

"Oh, these? Aren't they the cutest?" Harley beamed and lifted out of the blankets, revealing a pale pink color with a pattern of white rabbits dancing across. "This lady and her husband, they live up a floor from me. Their daughter's going to grade school now and they didn't need 'em anymore, in fact, I think they said they'd be bringing by her old crib later. Which reminds me--"

She stepped over the teddy bear on the floor, as Ivy sorted out some little porcelain figurines on the coffee table.

"I wanna go ahead and get this stuff into that spare room before they show up, you don't mind taking care of the living room, do you?"

Her eagerness was refreshing to hear, it was almost unnatural to see her this happy after everything that had happened over the past now-three weeks.  Ivy, still holding a figurine of a woman in a white dress in one hand, hesitated as she remembered her exchange with Frost earlier. She was so tempted, a part of her still wanting so badly to tell her about Joker's reaction about the pictures...she was bound to ask at some point.

But she wasn't now, best not to take any chances.

So, she nodded, setting the figurine down.

"Sure, go ahead. It's only fair." she agreed, shooting an earnest smile back towards her friend. Harley returned the smile and gathered the box more tightly in her arms.

"Thanks, Pammy. Oh, and if they show up while I'm back there, just let 'em in, okay?"

"You got it." Ivy moved onto an ugly painting, which she studied momentarily while Harley passed through the kitchen and disappeared into another room. She glanced back, silently, and shook her head, returning her focus to finding a place for the painting.

Despite being half-tempted to chuck into the garbage.

In the spare bedroom, Harley had set down the box and was on her knees, shuffling through the various little baby blankets and toys. She awed at pulling out a tiny stuffed bunny, and sat it on the floor, delighted at finding several littler animals. She figured it must've been a matched set of toys.

At pulling out a stuffed kitty, she paused.

_"Doctor Quinzel..."_

Gulping, her fingers deeply pressed into the kitty's fabric.

_"You know I live for these moments with you...whaddya got?"_

_"I got you a kitty."_

_"So thoughtful."_

It was almost a moment out of a cartoon as Harley forced herself to focus, shaking her head as quickly and rapidly as possible, before setting the kitty down alongside the other animals. She didn't need to be thinking about that right now. Or anything related to him. She was doing good enough as it was.

When she'd finished unpacking the box, she opened the closet. The baby outfits that had been packed away beneath the blankets were folded neatly, so she put them back in the box and got up, storing them away in the depths of the closet. Setting the now-much lighter box on the ground, she dusted off her hands and was all prepped to leave, until she smacked her head on a shelf whilst standing up.

"Yipe!" Harley rubbed the sore spot on her head, muttering something under breath. That's when she noticed something had fallen from the shelf. Curious, she stooped down, and picked it up, against her better judgement. Everyone in her family had always had her curiosity would be the death of her someday, and yeah, while she had smacked her head in the process of knocking this thing over, it wasn't exactly life-threatening. Maybe they'd meant that in a metaphorical sense.

She held the object in her hands for a good second until she realized it was an old book of some sort. Furrowing her eyebrows, she blew dust off it and brushed the rest off with her hand, only to find there was no title.  Now even more perplexed, she flipped the book open, and found several old photographs.

So, this was a photo album? It must've been the people who'd previously lived here, that was all she could figure. It was puzzling as to how they could've left something with memories stored in it behind, but then again, who knew what had happened to them. The landlady's daughter had mentioned something about this apartment having a "dark past" of sorts, and that's why nobody had moved into for a long time. Harley had only thought it was because of the bad smells in the place, but seeing this photo album was making her think that the girl hadn't been kidding. Any time you'd find one of these things in a horror movie, it almost always meant that the old house had a secret with it.

But to be fair, movies weren't exactly reality. Movies often had happy endings, something which real life didn't always have.

For about two minutes, she flipped through the pictures, noting how many of them seemed to be missing. Okay, that was a slight red flag, but maybe the couple had only chosen a few select photos to bring with them. It wasn't until she neared the end of the album did she realize that almost every photo on that page was missing. The only one that remained was of a young woman, visibly pregnant and wearing a beautiful sundress, and a brown-haired young man sitting next to her.

Harley squinted. There was...something familiar about this, now that she looked at it closer. Not that she had any idea who these people had been, but there was something...something she swore she recognized. Someone, in particular. The man, to be exact. She could've sworn...no. Nah, it couldn't be.

Having come to the end of the album, she sighed and shut it, tossing it back into the closet and shutting the door. A gust of cold wind reminded she'd left the windows open that morning to air out the bad smell (not that she had figured out what was making the smell, she could only figure it was either a dead rat or some mold in the carpet), and she shuddered, stooping down to pick up the baby blankets from the ground. Doing this, her eyes locked on something sitting on the window's edge, startling her into stumbling back.

"Holy shit! God!" The blankets hit the floor and she clutched her chest, releasing a breath of nervousness.

"You shouldn't swear." A small voice caused her to look back up, seeing that the something that had startled her was merely nothing but a little blonde-haired boy, probably no older than seven years old by the looks of things. He was dressed in a dirty grey hoodie, and a pair of patched jeans. His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed way too relaxed to be sitting on a window ledge that was a whole floor up from the ground.

Blinking out of surprise, Harley scooped the blankets back up. She said nothing to the boy at first, just exchanging several awkward glances with him. He said nothing either, just watching her. It was...mildly perturbing to say the least. Finally, as she set the blankets down on an old dresser nearby, she shot a nasty look back at the boy.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare? Or for that matter; scare people?"

The boy shrugged nonchalantly.

"Dunno. She doesn't talk to me that much." he said.

"Huh." Harley turned from the dresser, folding her arms. "She couldn't even have the decency to teach you some manners? Damn, sounds like my mom."

The boy scrunched his face at hearing her swear. She scowled.

"Hey, don't act so offended. Everybody swears, kid, get used to it." Unfolding her arms, she started picking up the stuffed animals on the ground. "How'd you even get up here? We're on literally on the second floor..."

He didn't respond to this, only staring back at her. It was almost like looking at the picture again; it was awkward, having this kid appear from out of nowhere and now...he was staring at her, she stared back. It was odd...he strangely had some familiar features. Just like the picture, only--this wasn't anybody she thought she knew.

Tugging at the ear of a stuffed rabbit, Harley awkward smiled and turned around, sitting it down on the dresser. She looked at the boy again through the corner of her eye, and turned around entirely.

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere?"

"Maybe. I dunno."

Harley raised an eyebrow. Wow, this kid was fantastic at conversations.

She snorted, picking up another animal.

"You know kid, you're a spectacular conversationalist. Just stellar."

"I don't talk to a lot of people. What'd you expect me to say?" The boy dryly responded, sliding off the ledge. He stared down at the animal toys and scooped up the cat. He noticed the baby blankets on the dresser as well, squinting at them, but not remarking upon them. Harley turned around, squealing slightly as she almost stumbled into him. Now that he was closer...she really could see, his features...damn it, they looked so similar...to...huh. To who, was the question.

This couldn't have been anyone she knew, she usually remembered faces pretty well.

Still silent, the boy simply lifted the toy cat up towards her. Harley glanced at it, then took it, cracking a nervous smile. Slowly, she placed it on the dresser.

"Um...so, do ya have a name or somethin'?" she asked, turning back to find he had moved over to the closet. He almost looked like he was about to open the door, but stopped short. Not looking at her, he shrugged for probably the umpteenth time.

"Not really."

"Not really? What's that supposed to be mean?" She scooped up the last stuffed animal, a dog, from the ground. "You've gotta have some kind of name, did your parents leave the birth certificate blank or somethin'?"

He glanced at her again. Nothing. Well this was clearly getting nowhere.

"Hm. Okay, fine, don't tell me. But there's no way you've got no name, that's just--that's just weird. How's about I give you a nickname?"

This time, she got a response. A nod.

"If you want."

Lowering the stuffed dog, Harley sucked in her lower lip. Looking the boy up and down, she thought for a moment, and grinned. Now that she thought about it, he kinda looked like the younger version of an old college professor she'd had. He'd been a cute professor; she remembered her friends teasing her about him.

_His name...what had his name been, it'd been so long... ah, right!_

"Teddy. I think ya look like a Teddy." she decided. _Well, technically the professor's name had been Theodore._ "How about that?"

At this, the boy gave a little smile.

"Sure. I like that."

Harley's grin grew a little, but her attention was alerted by the sound of a knock at the front door. The familiar voices of her neighbors could be heard greeting Ivy, and there were the slightest sounds of something thumping, indicating that the crib was more than likely being pulled in.

"Oh shi--shoot. I've actually gotta go, Teddy." She turned to look back at him. "Hey, did you wanna--"

Gone. He was gone. She was met with nothing but the empty half of the room in front of her. The window was still open, opened to the same spot it'd been opened to earlier, nothing saying he might've left.

Her face contorted.

_Shit._

Maybe this place really did have more of a dark past than the landlady's daughter had let on. Ghosts did seem like a good possibility at the moment, and it was nothing Harley wouldn't believe given that she'd faced off against an ancient goddess a few months back.

Oh well. It might just be overthinking at the same time, maybe that kid was just really agile. It was a shame he'd ran off though, she was about to ask if he wanted to split the cherry pie. Kids never turned down sweets.

Not giving it a second thought, Harley brushed it aside and tossed the stuffed dog onto the dresser as she left the room. But oddly, she still felt a lingering sense of deja vu throughout the rest of the day.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

An array of thunder and lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the night sky over Gotham. It wasn't all too surprising that it was raining again, only this time, it had seemed a severe thunderstorm had decided to grace the city. It only added to the ambiance that was already provided by the loud cars and the whirring of passing trains.

At the Joker's penthouse, no lights were visible, the windows all dimmed and dark. The club had closed at 12:00, which was actually an earlier closing time than usual, and every patron had already scattered on home, no sign that anyone had ever been at the place. Well, except for the mess of spilled booze and glitter that was.

But even though the club was clearly closed, and no other soul lingered around, the Joker was not asleep. He wasn't even out riding around the city, as one might've expected. Other rogues saw this as their chance to get the last laugh around town since he hadn't even seemed to have shown his face since his grand performance at the charity bash. It was a little cause for suspicion, perhaps it even baffled Batman that his greatest adversary seemed to be hiding in the shadows, but it was time he should probably enjoy while it lasted. Some other villain was bound to keep him occupied, so for the first time in a while, the Joker was the lowest concern on his list.

Sure, it wasn't like the clown hadn't considered going out that night; heck, even if it was to just drive around and fire shots at some unsuspecting citizen, but he was just finding he didn't have the energy for that. That could be accounted to the long nights he didn't get any sleep; and if he did get any sleep, it was one to two hours at the least, before the nightmares set in.

And this just so happened to be another one of those late nights.

The Joker had grown all-too accustomed to these after the past couple of weeks; they were tiresome, they were cumbersome; yet anytime he had tried to lay down and even _attempted_ to get any meager amount of sleep, his mind had fuzzed and the same, repetitive dreams ran re-runs in his head. It had become routine by now.

So, if anyone had to ask why he was up at 2:04 in the morning, sitting in his office, with a half-empty whiskey bottle, that was the reason. Not that he'd say that that was the reason, he'd probably just pull his pistol out and shoot the wall until they left him alone. The boys had been hesitant to leave that night, but he'd made darn sure to let them know there'd be consequences if they didn't leave. That'd been all it taken, though as always, Frost had been a bit more stubborn.

Needless to say, his usually-favorite right-hand man had not been on his good side since he'd given him those photographs from Harley's ultrasound. Of course, it hadn't exactly been Frost's fault he had them, that-- _that_ plant had just given them to him, and probably forced him to hand them over. _Yeah, yeah that was probably it. Frost wouldn't do anything to tick his own boss off, he’d always been the most careful and obedient of all the henchmen he'd ever had._

_Then again..._

He really had seemed to be handing those off at his own freewill; if Ivy had done anything to make him do it, he would've looked more hypnotized, his eyes would've been glazed over; he wouldn't have been so direct and insistent. At least it wouldn't be happening again, Joker had already made it clear what would happen if he caught Frost trying to slip another one onto his desk, or even, into it.  He didn't make light on his threats, even to people he liked.

It'd been a few days and another week since he'd gotten the others; the burnt trash in the can had long since been disposed of, and the can was now next to his desk, clear of debris. Currently, he stood in front of a window, staring out at the rain that trickled down the glass. His arms hung at his sides loosely, one hand limply hanging onto an empty shot glass. Though his vision was fixed on the city outside, his mind was somewhere else.

_Somewhere...somewhere foreign, someplace he didn't know..._

Another flash of lightening flashed, illuminating his face momentarily. In the reflection of the glass, his face looked to be quite vacant of any depictable emotion. Dark bags had made themselves at home underneath his eyes, and his eyelids looked half-open from the lack of sleep. His hair was a tousled mess, and his robe was only halfly-tied together, exposing a rather ugly scar on his shoulder, left from the stitches that had been undone the prior evening.

His eyes, usually cold, or alert, looked dead.

_Where, oh where did your mind go to tonight..._

_Somewhere old, somewhere new...who even really knew._

_Where did your mind go tonight, where has it gone the other nights?_

He knew. He knew where it had gone tonight, where it went the other nights.

_Where oh where did it go..._

_Did it go back to the trailer with the little boy? The white room? The dingy apartment with the young man?_

Well that was the point, it had gone to all three places tonight. It had gone back to the trailer first, at 12:30, when he'd first fallen asleep after tossing for thirty minutes.

_There'd been cops, oh so many cops, and a woman being hauled out on an ambulance. The little boy had been there, he'd sat in the corner, quiet, minding his own business, but would not speak to the cop who was asking him questions. He'd been led out to the cop car, taking to another building. He'd been quiet, not asking for his parents, not crying. Instead, he was led into a dark, dimly lit room with a table and chairs. A nice man had come in, and had asked him even more questions._

_Questions, questions--words-words--he hated words. He wanted him to shut up._

He'd woken up. Another thirty minutes, he fell back asleep. 1:15, he was in the white room with the dirty bed.

_A nice man and woman came into the room, both dressed like they had money. The woman spelled like lilac, probably because of some expensive perfume. They both smiled at him, talking to him politely, asking if he wanted to come home with them. The woman had even had a stuffed bear for him, a stuffed bear with a blue bow tie._

_He didn't leave with them that day. But he was left with the bear._

_When they'd came back the next day, the bear was on the floor, with its head torn clean off. Bits of fluffing scattered the floor, and red paint was smeared everywhere._

Once more, he'd woken up. 5 minutes passed, even though he willed not to fall asleep, he did. Another whole hour passed. And then, then he'd been in the dingy apartment.

_The young woman, the pretty young woman in the sundress, she sat at the kitchen table, flipping through a magazine catalogue. He--the man--was standing behind her, speaking on a phone. His voice was angry--no, desperate? It seemed to be pleading with whomever was on the other end of the phone line. Finally, the young man had slammed the phone back onto its receiver, and smacked the wall with his fist, leaving a small dent in the plaster._

_This had startled the pretty woman, who had attempted to speak calmly to the man, but he'd only lashed out at her. Something about being laid off from a job again, how it was the third time that this had happened. The woman had tried to speak softly to him again, but he'd headed into the bathroom, where he proceeded to splash cold water in his face in an effort to calm down. He stared at his reflection for a good minute, then threw open the medicine cabinet, fumbling around for some pill bottle._

_He found it. He opened the cap, and three little white pills fell into the palm of his hand. He stared at them, as the bathroom door cracked open behind him. Thin, pale arms wrapped around him from behind, and he felt hot breath tickling at his ear._

_"It'll be okay, we can make it..."_

That was the last time. He'd woken up after that, and ever since then, had been in his study. He didn't even know why he was in this specific room, on top of that; it'd almost been like he'd been sleepwalking, with the way he'd seemed to walk on auto, like he wasn't in control of his movements. The only light that was on was the desk lamp, he didn't even remember turning the damn thing on.

When he had seemed to regain control of his limbs, he'd proceeded to dousing down half of the old whiskey he'd left on the shelf. It was, surprisingly, the same bottle that he'd started on the prior week, he'd only just now finishing it off. His ears buzzed and felt warm from his copious consumptions of alcohol that night, but it didn't faze him. In his mind, he was still lost, trying to play connect the dots.

_What did these dreams mean? What did they have in common?_

_Who's the boy, who's the man...who's that woman?_

The only conclusion he could come to was that that boy--and the man, must've been the same person. But why would he be dreaming about them, unless they were him. That made sense, but he hated that it made sense. He barely even remembered half his old life, no thanks to a damaged psyche and his descent into the chemicals, followed by the electroshock therapy at Arkham. He'd surely thought nothing was left his mind, save for his new memories, save for who he was. Back when Harley...back when she'd been Harleen, she'd always suspected he had repressed memories, and that the fake stories he told her were always figments of what he could remember....

Back then, he'd only laughed.

He'd gone along with it, because he was a good little boy and wanted to have the nice doctor convinced he was getting better, that she was curing him. After Harleen was gone and Harley was born, he'd told her that the memories he'd told her about had really been nothing than what he'd said they were in the first place; fake little sob stories to gain sympathy. And that time, she hadn't spouted off anything about repressed memories; that was a sure sign that Harleen was gone.

Though, she did have her little psychiatrist moments every now and then. Had used to. He'd be damned if he'd let her stick around enough to use reverse psychology on him to convince him to keep the baby. She would've done it; there was no doubt she would've at least tried.

_Feisty minx..._

But the more he thought about it, maybe...maybe Harleen _had_ had a point after all. It bothered him, it truly bothered him that these could be possible memories. It'd never occurred to him until now; but they kept re-occurring so much, he was beginning to feel like he knew the people in his dreams.

_This isn't how I wanted it, no no--I'm supposed to be mysterious. No one's supposed to know where I came from, not even I know--do I? Do I know?_

His lips tugged into a sharp curl. Another flash of lightening, more thunder. Turning from the window, he started pacing the room like a caged animal. His fingers were curled around the glass tightly, to the point of where it looked like it was cracking.

_No, no! This is only happening--you know why is this happening. This is only happening because Harley's not here. She could make these nightmares stop. She always could._

"No, no, no--no. No." His pace quickened. "Stop it. Shut up. I don't need her, I never did. I was fine before she came along, it's her fault I'm like this now."

_Like what, J?_

"You know, emotional. I'm...feeling stuff, I don't like it." Sharply turning back to his desk, he stormed over to it. "I never felt anything before she came along. It's her fault."

Heck, he'd never even had nightmares before she'd came into his life. Any nightmare he had had was completely normal, at least, as normal as could be for him. But he didn't understand these, he didn't want these--yet why did they persist?

_Ah yes...blame it all on her. Blame everyone else except for yourself. Sounds logical._

It wasn't logical. It wasn't. But had anything he'd done really been logical?

Possibly...

But he didn't want to think about it right now.

He was hunched over his desk now, the glass turned upside down. His hand rested on it, before he ended up swiping it aside. It hit the ground and shattered, Joker turning and grabbing at his face, all but screaming into his hands. His mind was far too clouded to think straight anymore; the effect of the alcohol was numbing the voices, they weren't a problem now. But he was still very much bothered, oh no. Just because the voices, and--and the thoughts, might be leaving him alone for now, would not mean he could easily go back to sleep.

He hadn't had a moment's rest, not since he'd been shot. Every night since then had been like this. What was the point of going back to sleep dare he risk another nightmare, a possible memory, fluttering in like it was nobody else's business. He'd done everything he could to snuff them out; sleeping pills, alcohol, none of it had worked. There was only one thing that had ever worked, in the past...when the nightmares had been tamer. When they hadn't persisted night after night...but that was only because Harley had been there.

Somehow, just having her there had been enough to scare them off. The minute she left, it was just...continuous, on a loop. Like when she'd been locked up. Only this time, they were escalating to an extreme point.

Slumping into his chair, he sat there in a dull stupor for a solid two minutes. Something buzzed loudly in his head, his eye lids lifting slightly. His arms had been dangling off the armrests, but he lifted them, and scooted his seat forward, closer to the drawer.

_Why was he doing this--why--he didn't care--_

In the faint light of the lamp, he fumbled and gripped the drawer, sliding it around. Several files and stacks of papers were moved around before he was met with a very, very thin piece of paper. He curled it into his fist, pulling it out slowly. The photo was all but crumpled by the time it was in his viewpoint, in the light. The tiny fetus came into view, still nothing but a blob. Yet he stared anyways.

Frost had said Ivy had given him these...she'd told him that Harley wanted him to have it...to see it. She still thought, even after he'd almost beat their child out of her, when he'd kicked her out to the streets...that he'd seriously want to be involved in all of this? That he'd grow into the loving and caring father she hoped he would be?

He couldn't help but chuckle at this thought. Never giving up...such a persistent little bird. So stubborn. That was a part of Harleen that carried over to her when she became Harley, she always had to get her way. She was possessive, she always protected the things she loved. She would go crazy if anyone said or even looked bad at her puddin'.

 He'd loved that about her, it made for entertainment whenever they had a guest (that guest being some unfortunate cliental). He'd loved what she'd become; truly, truly, she had been his greatest creation. She had been a force in his life, a force that was just as much to be reckoned with as he was. He remembered her first assignment; and how she'd come out of that crappy old bar with the money. He'd handed her the gun from the car window, telling her to go back in and finish business.

At first, she'd questioned it...protesting, saying that they already had the money...he'd said nothing else, just giving her a look, before rolling the window back up. He hadn't expected to hear her go back into the bar, but he couldn't deny the mad grin that had come over his face when he heard the gunshot go off. When she came back, and opened the car door, she was covered in blood and grinning just as big as he was.

"I did it, Mistah J. Ya proud of me?" She'd had a wad of pink bubblegum in her mouth, chewing on it as she spoke. Still grinning, he had just nodded and patted her face like she was a child.

"Very proud, baby. You did very good, tonight."

He'd pinched her cheek, and she beamed proudly, sliding into the car seat in front of him.

That was the night he'd rewarded her with her favorite necklace; the custom-made one, the choker with the huge gold letters that spelled out "Puddin" on it. God, he'd hated that nickname...but it had kinda grown on him overtime, and she'd been so happy when he presented her with her reward. She'd only ever gotten things if she'd done something good; which was quite often. She was always so eager to please him, and he liked it. She'd always done half the work one of his men could do and be done with it quicker than they could.

Plus, there were other things she did that...that the men just possibly couldn't do. Little tasks, like shooting people and collecting money, were not the only things she could do to please him. So many wonderful nights in bed...on that bearskin rug, even. The night she came home, they'd spent it on that rug, sipping on her favorite grape soda.

Now...now, where was she? Off in some part of the city, trying to keep a low-level profile so Bats wouldn't find her and haul her back to that Waller bitch, back to that horrid prison where she'd no doubt rot the rest of her life? And to think, he'd left her to that. He'd sacrificed his best possession into the hands of the city, all because she was pregnant.

Despite it having been only a few weeks, it felt like an eternity. He'd ignored letting himself think about this for too long before; but now that he held this picture, and probably because he was drunk, he'd let his mind wander off. He'd let himself think about her, let himself ponder if he was really willing to let her slip out of his fingers again.

This...this whole situation was stupid. Kicked out...she was gone, all because of this stupid baby. A part of him had considered, at one point, letting her come back and have the kid, but there was still no way in hell he wanted to be a father; it just wouldn't work. Harley was all he wanted--well, that and total control over Gotham.

_But you know Harley wants the baby. You know that. She won't let you hurt it._

Of course, she wouldn't. She'd made that very clear already...but, what else could he do? He just couldn't be a father. Not only because of...obvious reasons, but for some other reason he just couldn't pinpoint. Maybe it had something to do with the supposed memories coming back, or--or maybe he just didn't want someone else to care about...

_No, that isn't it. I don't love out of free will. I can't._

Blinking at the photograph, he sneered and tossed it back into the drawer. 

These weeks had been four weeks too long. He could figure out what to do about the whole baby thing later, he just knew he needed his Looney Tune back, and he needed her back as soon as possible. He didn't want any more of these nightmares bothering him ever again.

\--

Harley recalled the time her dad had taken her to the local convenience store after her first gymnastic competition and bought her some candy--a giant lollipop, if she remembered correctly. She also remembered seeing him attempt to discreetly slip painkillers into his jacket sleeve, only to take them out when she'd spotted him. At the time, she'd not understood why he’d been trying to steal medication, but now, years later, she understood.

Little crimes like that had probably been what had landed him in jail, amongst other things.

She didn't know why she remembered that right now, but it was probably because she was in currently in a convenience store. She had been walking through the aisles, carrying a basket with a box of off-brand pop tarts and a loaf of bread inside, and had come across a little girl trying to convince her mother to buy her a gigantic lollipop that was sitting on the counter near the register. It'd taken her a moment to shake herself out of remembering, and she'd quickly turned down another aisle to avoid being caught staring.

It was a little after 8, probably not the best time to be doing your grocery shopping. But daytime meant more people, and more chance of being spotted. She just didn't like that risk hanging over her head. Plus, she liked going out at nighttime, it was quieter, at least, in the stores. Not many people were out shopping, or if they were, they were probably at some mega mart downtown.

The black wig still made her scalp itch, and by now, the glasses were making her eyes ache. With the convulsing faces she'd been pulling off, some old man had even taken the time to ask her if she was okay. Putting on a smile, she'd just nodded and rushed off down another aisle to look at cereal. She really just wanted to finish her shopping and get back to the apartment; reruns of Desperate Housewives were being aired tonight and she'd be damned if she missed even one episode.

It wasn't a fun life; going out at night to shop at some quiet little shop, watching television, and reading whatever magazines Ivy brought her, but it was something to pass time, sometimes even the little blonde kid in the apartment complex, Teddy, would show up, and they'd have a chat. He was a weird kid, never really seeming to want to talk about his parents much...not that Harley could blame him; he reminded her an awful lot of her at that age. But aside from that, her life didn't carry much excitement to it these days.  It wasn't like she could go out and break into any jewelry stores, or hit up any bars for that matter. Alcohol was a no-no until the baby came, which she'd been even more perturbed to find out whilst reading in the baby book her doctor had given her. No coffee, no alcohol; no smoking, even.

And on top of that, her feet had begun to swell on her that morning. It wasn't going to be long before she'd have to buy a new pair of shoes, and they'd have to be flats on top of that! No heels! Geez, being pregnant was already proving to be a buzzkill.

Tossing a box of Cookie Crips into her basket, she padded around the corner to another aisle, the medication aisle to be exact. Dr. Hoffman had already written down what vitamins to get, and now was the stage she'd want to start taking them at; not that she wanted to, she was already grouchy enough having to deal with no caffeine and no high heels. Scanning the shelves, she spotted the one stocked full of pre-natal vitamins and plucked one off the shelf to investigate.

Whilst turning a bottle over in one hand, she heard a door bell jingle and the little girl giggling as she and her mother left the shop. Their feet padded out, and another pair seemed to pad right in. A tiny pair, like another child had entered the store.  Harley paid it no mind until the footsteps seemed to stop right next to her. She looked down right as a small hand tugged at her jacket, and was a little stunned to find a little girl facing her. It wasn't the same little girl as before, this girl was a bit older, and her eyes were wide, her pupils huge. Like she'd seen something that had spooked her badly.

Harley opened her mouth, about to ask the girl what she wanted or where her mother or father was, as she wasn't in the mood to really be bothered right now; but to her surprise, the girl spoke first. Her voice came out very quiet and meek, her words coming out very rehearsed, like she'd been told what to say.

"He's waiting for you. Outside. He wants to see you." she said simply, not even sparing a blink. "Don't keep him waiting."

And just like that, the girl turned and left, the bell tied to the top of the door giving off a tiny jingle as it closed. Dumbfounded, Harley tore her eyes away from where the girl had gone and looked at the floor, thoughts racing through her mind. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and her blood going warm.

_He's waiting for you...he wants to see you..._

_He?_

Slowly but surely, it all sunk in.

"Puddin'..."

_Don't keep him waiting..._

The vitamin bottle hit the inside of the basket and she headed to the checkout.

\--

It'd taken a moment and a half to pay for her goods; the old lady in front of her had insisted on counting every little dime and dollar for her groceries and had turned up a dollar short, having spent the next five minutes digging through her purse for loose change. By the time Harley finally had left the store, she made an instant beeline down the street. She didn't know where he'd be; although she had a good idea. Her heart was all but beating out of her the chest by the time she was halfway down the sidewalk, and she stopped.

Bags in hand, she turned. She was beside an alleyway now; a dimly lit one, fog emitting from it. It gave off an ominous vibe, yet she began to walk into it. Halfway in, a figure emerged from behind a garbage container, dressed in an all-too familiar purple coat and hat. The brim covered his face until he looked up, but Harley didn't need to see his face to know who it was.

Although, it was one of those rare occasions where she met him without a smile on her face. He bore the same emotions, looking up at her with something that could be described as longing, yet his eyes looked cold, tired. Neither one uttered a word to each other, the Joker only eyeing his former queen up and down. Her appearance was so mundane to what he was used to seeing; it almost took him a moment to register that it was her. He stepped closer to her, Harley remaining frozen where she stood. His hand grabbed her arm and she almost jerked away, but he held tight, snarling in response. A glare seemed to flash over his eyes, and she held her breath.

Still, he said nothing.  Only grasping at her jacket, he began to slide her sleeve upwards, revealing her harlequin-pattern tattoo. This warranted a smile, and he released her arm, probably with more force than he needed to. Harley, stepping back, slid her sleeve back down, huffing.

"Satisfied now?"

"No."

An individual near the couple could be heard shouting for a taxi, repeatedly, but it was promptly ignored. Harley shifted her bags in her hands, and eyed her Mister J. It was her turn to scrutinize now that he'd done his fair share of staring, and even in the dim light of the alley, she could almost pinpoint a matching pair of dark bags under her eyes. Though, to be fair, it did look like he'd tried to cover them up, but to no avail.

She also noted how he was wearing one of his best suits underneath that coat. It matched that coat, and that hat. It was his special outfit; the one he stated he only ever wore to really _special_ occasions. Shifting one bag to her other hand, she placed her free hand on her hip and coyly smirked.

"What's this, got all dressed up? Just for me?" she remarked. "I don't think I've seen you wear that getup in a long time."

"Speak for yourself, soccer mom." The Joker snapped, snatching up his new cane from where it'd been laying against the garbage bin. "That's gotta be ten times worse those outfits you wore those times you played doctor. Hell, you're even wearing those damn glasses again..."

He'd lifted the cane, pointing it towards her. It lowered, wobbling a bit in midair as he really took her appearance in. For just a second, the black hair transformed back into that blonde bun she'd been wearing in their first session, the grey shirt, black jacket, and baggy pants turning into the wine-red blouse and black pencil skirt she'd had on. He remembered that session as plain as day, it was hard to forget. After all the doctors he'd had, it'd been the greatest surprise of his life to find a fresh, impressionable mind like hers, an eagerness to learn, to please. She'd been nothing but a little mouse then.

Her appearance melted back into the black hair and grey shirt, a quiet expression on her very-plain face. No lipstick, barely any makeup at all. Her eyes were half-squinted, and her mouth was pressed into a tight line.

The cane gave off a light tap as the butt of it hit the cobblestone.

".... of course, those glasses did melt when you..." His voice trailed off.  He looked at her from the corner of his eye, the tightness still on her face. Any sentence he'd had going was now gone.

As a means of saying "forget it", he muttered something under his breath and craned his neck to the side, tapping his cane against the ground, before returning his focus back to her.

"But you...god, you look different. Is that what happens when I leave you alone for what, a week?"

"Two weeks, puddin'..." So quiet, she sounded. "Almost three."

He just nodded, several soft growls coming from his throat, though he didn't open his mouth.

"I've..." She fiddled with her fingers, having set the bags down. Managing the tiniest smile possible, she stepped forward. "I've missed you. I've really missed you..."

"Huh..." Was the only sound he made, the only thing he said, both hands now resting on the cane. He didn't look at her, looked anywhere but her. The smile disappeared off her face, a huge frown replacing it. Her brows bent in anger.

"Mistah J..."

Still nothing.

"Why are you here? Why aren't you talking to me?"

Clenching his jaw, the Joker's eyes travelled back in her direction. He couldn't look at her; there was just such an accusatory look in her eyes, such a pained expression...it'd only been three weeks, almost, she hadn't forgotten what happened...and clearly, she hadn't forgiven him either. She was expecting him to say something about it, he had to say something about it.

One hand had slipped from his cane, and was now curled into a fist. He uncurled, curled it, several times.

"Because, I'm thinking...."

"Thinkin'? About what?"

"About..." He sucked in his lower lip, biting on it. "God, I don't know. Why I even came here...I don't even know why--"

"Why? Haven't you missed me?" _There it was again, the accusation._ "I thought ya'd finally be wantin' to see me. Didn't you forget Belle Reve? How long I was gone?"

The Joker inhaled deeply, his grip on the cane tightening.  Was she really gonna play the guilt-trip card? That was usually his job, he couldn't say he was too fond of the shoe being on the other foot. He didn't wanna be reminded of those other times, he didn't need to be. They'd happened, they were done, they were gone.

"What about the other times, puddin'? The other times we fought, either I came back or you came lookin' for me." He turned her back to her, but she came closer to him, her feet splashing through a mud puddle. "What's the deal this time? Why don't you wanna talk to me?"

"Baby, please--please--shut up--" He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, pinching it.

"No, I wanna know! I've been thinkin' on this ever since you kicked me out! Why should now be any different?"

"Harls--damn it! Damn it! Shut up!" Joker spun around, the glare flashing over his eyes a second time. His loudness was enough to silence her, thankfully no passersby was nearby to have heard it. Tossing his cane to the side, he grabbed her by the arm and tossed her against the wall nearby, his hand wrapping around her throat. He was all but seething, his shoulders heaving up and down like an angry bull that'd been released into the fighting ring. The heat of his anger was practically radiating off him, as he snarled, growled, digging his fingers into her throat. Harley pathetically choked, grabbing onto his arm, trying to free herself. It was all in vain.

His fingers pressed in even harder, the nails now scratching the surface of her skin.

"Shut up, just shut up. You don't get to give me that spiel for the hundredth time, I don't want to hear it." He all-but sounded like a growling tiger, Harley his prey. She gave up trying to free herself, feeling her head start to spin.

"Little Harley Quinn, little bitty Harley...you aren't the doctor anymore. You can't talk to me like I'm the patient!" Now he was shaking her, her head wobbling like a bobblehead's. Her face had turned a shade of light purple. "I only wanted to talk, I simply wanted to talk, that's the only reason I even came out here. _Do not_ make me regret it."

At last, the air came surging back in her lungs. His hand went back to picking his cane up, but he didn't tear his eyes off her. Harley wheezed, the color coming back to her face and the purple disappearing. She pressed her own hand against her throat, where she swore she could still feel his fingers pressed against it.

For just a split second, she almost imagined him doing the same thing to their child.

_He wouldn't...he would. Remember what Ivy said? Is it going to be a double funeral for you and your kid?_

 It made her wince.

"If that was your idea of talkin', that was a pretty sad idea." she said, bitterness heavy in her tone as she glared over at him. "Do I need to remind you that I'm still pregnant? You were that close to killing your kid for the second time."

"And I would've continued gladly if it meant that little nuisance being out of our lives." Joker snapped. "Fuck--fuck, this whole situation! It's ridiculous! This is ridiculous, Harls! This is exactly why I told you to stay on that damn pill, how do you fuck up something that simple?"

"Yeah? Well how did you fuck up by not putting on a condom?" Harley retorted, shooting up from the wall. Her purse was all but hanging loosely off her arm at this rate, but she didn't notice or care. "Last I checked, that was a pretty simple act too. If you didn't want anything leakin' you should've kept your dick covered."

"Har--my--what--" The Joker practically sputtered, partly from anger, partly from embarrassment. An approaching Harley was shoved back to the wall again and he jabbed his bony finger at her, the other hand all but crushing his cane.

"You _slut._ You'll shut your mouth if you know what's good for you."

"Ooh, or what? You'll choke me again?" Harley dared, fluttering her eyelashes at him, teasing a smirk. "Or what about your cane? You gonna hit me with that?"

The Joker grunted. He dropped the cane, grabbing Harley by the shoulders, roughly. Their faces were level, the gazes intent and serious. Harley's coy smirk remained, and Joker snarled, grabbing her by the chin with one hand, the other staying grasped on her shoulder.

"Do not..." He squeezed her chin, tightly, pulling her closer to him until their noses touched. "Tempt me, little girl. You know I will. I'll do it, and you'll be left a bleeding, crying, blubbering little mess in this alleyway. How would you enjoy that? Huh?"

Harley's smirk still didn't faze. She kept staring at J, curling her smirk to the side the best she could despite his hold on her chin. Grunting again, he let it go, and her head fell back against the wall. She giggled, despite the little pang of pain she felt from the impact, and let her head wobble to the side. Her giggles only grew louder, this seeming to frustrate Joker. He held fast onto her with both hands now, and shook her. Shook her several times, but her giggles just kept escalating. Letting out an angry scream, his fist smacked her in the jaw, but even then, her giggles didn't stop. Several times, finally, before he yelled.

"What is so funny? Just what is so damn funny, Harls?!" Joker all but roared, delivering another slap to her face. "Tell me!!"

It was a wonder the store clerk in the building they were next to hadn't heard them, but last Harley had checked, he'd gone off to the back room of the store with an iPod and earbuds, so there were slim chances he'd be coming out to investigate. Harley's giggles softened, even as she was shook one more time, and finally, slammed violently into the garbage container.

It became quiet, save for the Joker's heavy breathing and Harley's ceased giggling. Her purse was now on the ground, resting in a mud puddle, alongside Joker's cane. He released her, but she stayed back against the container. Taking small breaths to calm herself, she straightened, as Joker turned away from her, facing the road ahead of them.

"I'll tell ya what was so funny, puddin'..." His eyes shifted back to her. "You got off track. I still don't know what you were wantin' to talk to me about."

 _"That...was it...that was all?"_ He was almost tempted to say this, it being his current thought, but he shouldn't have been surprised. She had a point. And why, why should he be expecting her to still be phased, by almost being choked, slapped, punched? It happened every time they fought, only those times sometimes she'd be delivering just as many punches back at him.

She hadn't done anything this time, except...giggle. Just like how he'd do nothing but laugh when Bats hit him, even when he knocked his damn teeth out...and the first time, the very first time he'd ever laid a blow on her, he'd given her some very simple advice.

_"If you're going to be with me, if you insist on it--" She'd been sniffling, clutching her sore jaw, while he retrieved a package of frozen peas from the freezer. "You have to do what I do, Harley. It's actually very simple."_

_"You mean I have to suck it up?" Her lower lip was blubbering, even as she took the frozen peas and pressed it to her bruise. Joker had laughed, and shaken his head._

_"No...no, not at all. You just have to...smile, through the pain. Laugh at it. After all..." He placed his hand in her hair, stroking it, letting his fingers intertwine as she looked at him, her eyes still misty. "What is pain, but a temporary thing?"_

And now, here she was...giggling. Laughing....

He had taught her well, hadn't he?

He couldn't help but smile himself now. Running his hand over his jaw, he let off a soft chuckle, much more different than the loud yelling he'd been doing previously. It was almost amazing how his moods could easily shift, but she'd caught him. During his entire outburst, he had almost forgotten why he'd even sought her out in the first place.

Not that that was a conversation he wanted to have after their little altercation, this was sure to go over well.  He'd already left a couple of nice bruises on her face and neck, but she didn't even look phased. She was still smirking at him, and it was frustrating.

Regaining his ever-lost composure, the Joker tipped his hat back and cleared his throat, shoving both hands into his coat pockets. Harley cocked her head, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"Ah...yeah. Yeah, I was going to--I was gonna talk to you..." he mumbled. His fingers could be seen twiddling inside of his pockets, and he bounced up and down on his feet, slowly, thoughtfully. An ambulance siren echoed in the night air as he contemplated his next choice of words. Harley's coming back would depend on this; he had such a gift for words, that even just speaking to someone would be enough to unnerve them. Whatever he said, would have to convince her to come back.

_He wasn't going to leave here without her._

"Harls..." She looked up at him, having previously been kicking at the mud puddle her purse was still laying in. "I... I’ve come to realize that--perhaps, my choice of actions those three weeks ago were a bit...how do I say this, harsh?"

Harley only replied with a mean laugh at this, crossing her arms. Joker gave her a warning look and continued.

"Yes--yes, so I may have overreacted just a tad--"

"Yeah, just a little bit."

"Shush. Anyways, as I was saying, I understand I probably overreacted by just a little bit." The Joker moved to take his hat off, gathering it in his hands. "I guess...what I'm trying to say is, despite everything that's happened..."

"Sorry? Is that what you're tryin' to say?" Harley interrupted, causing him to grunt out of annoyance and smack her with his hat.

"Quit interrupting me! God! Of course, I'm not trying to say sorry, what do you take me for? A good two-shoes?" At this, Harley just shrugged, her arms still folded.

"Alright, yeah. Fair enough. So, what are you tryin' to say then?"

"I want you to come back." He rushed this sentence out, almost wanting to squeeze his eyes shut. He sounded like a little kid trying to ask their parent for an allowance, a bigger allowance at that, but he tried to not let his desperation show.

His queen's eyes widened, one eyebrow lifting in disbelief. Her mouth agape, she released a surprised gasp, one that sounded as equally disbelieving as her face looked. He almost thought she was going to laugh at him, in fact he fully expected it; other times she would've just thrown her arms around him and squealed "yes" over and over again until he was certain he'd gone deaf.

She'd asked why now should be any different, just because of the baby. And she wasn't throwing her arms around him or squealing yet; instead, she looked like she was trying to register what he'd just told her.

"You...want--you want me to come back?" She blinked, several times. "After...after tryin' to kill our baby? Even after I begged you not to?"

"Your baby. _Your_ baby, pumpkin. I already told ya I want nothing to do with the brat."

"No, puddin', it's still your baby too. I didn't make it by myself." Harley defiantly stated, uncrossing her arms. She strolled right in front of him, anger evident on her face. "Why? If you don't want it, why do you want me to come back? You'll just try killin' it again for all I know."

She stooped over, picking her purse up from the ground. It was the Joker's turn to have his eyes widened, though, he wasn't entirely surprised that that had been her response. He groaned, as she turned back to face him.

"Yeah, no thanks. I was scared half to death, and ya sprained my damn wrist. If you think I'm comin' back then that's just--that's just hilarious." Throwing the strap over shoulder, she began to walk back to where she'd left her bags. Out of protest, the Joker headed after her, several angry grunts could be heard before he snatched her by the arm.

"Hey, lemme go!" She yanked, almost tempted to kick him off of her. But his grip was surprisingly not that tight. He was only holding on long enough to get her to look at him, it seemed.

"Harls--darling, please. I understand, I understand why you're angry  but if I promised you I wouldn't hurt the baby--" Now the desperation was obvious in his voice, but he made an attempt to mask it as he spoke again. Harley tried yanking away but he pulled her back. She stumbled.

"Mistah J--"

"If I promised you that, would you come back then? Huh?" The only thing he got from her was a tiny huff, and he sighed. Releasing her arm, he almost thought she'd bolt right then and there; but she stayed. She held her arm defensively, but stayed put. Waiting, waiting and thinking, like she was seriously considering his proposition. Geez, why hadn't he just mentioned not killing the baby in the first place, that would've been a one-way ticket to winning her favor.

Dubiously, she eyed him, her lips in a pout.

"You promise you won't hurt it?" she half-whispered.

"I swear it. I never--ever, break a promise, poo, you know that."

More hesitation. Finally, she nodded. A tiny smile.

"Okay...okay! Okay puddin', I'll come back."

This; this was the response he wanted. His own grin returned and he let out a joyous laugh, stepping back.

"That's my girl, I knew you still had some sense left in there!" he remarked, sliding his hat back on. Opening his arms, he braced himself for the impact as Harley threw himself into her arms, squealing and digging her hands into his back, pressing her face close against his shoulder.

"Oh honey, honey I missed you so much. I'm so happy." Part of him winced as she cried into his coat, but he only chuckled, patting her hair, albeit the hair being a wig. It felt too fake, he'd wondered for a second if she'd actually dyed it.

"I'm happy too, pumpkin. It's been so quiet without your perky little face around the club." This just caused Harley to hug him tighter, and he was sure he felt a bone break. "Oof, hey. Lighten up a bit will ya?"

"Ooh, sorry. Sorry, Mistah J." Her arms loosened and she sighed happily, nuzzling against his coat. "Sorry--I'm just--I'm so happy. I was hopin' for this--Pammy, you know, she said you wouldn't ever warm up to havin' a baby--I told her! I told her you would! I get to come back now and you won't hurt it, we'll have a little clown of our own! I'm so excited now, puddin'! Aren't you?"

_Shit._

She'd misunderstood him.

She thought--she thought he was gonna let her keep it, still? Oh...oh hell no.

Chuckling nervously, he started prying her off of him.

"Heh...um, yeah, baby, about that--"

"And you know what? I've already got a bunch of baby stuff for the nursery, you won't have to worry about paying for anything!" She continued rambling on, now playing with the folds of his coat even as he pushed her back. "I've got a crib--of course, I'll probably still buy a few knick-knacks for the rest of the place, I haven't exactly decided on a theme yet--"

"Harley--"

"Oh, oh! A circus theme! Wouldn't a little circus tent over the crib look cute?"

"HARLEY!"

He practically barked, causing her to emit a mousey squeak. Her hands dropped from his coat.

"What? What's wrong?"

"We're not--I'm not--" Sighing, he rubbed his forehead and let his hand fall down his face. Dragging over his nose, his mouth. "Okay, how do I put this gently...I didn't say you could _keep_ the kid..."

The happy expression on her face vanished in an instant. She slowly stepped back from him.

"What...? What do you mean, I thought you said--"

"I said I wouldn't hurt it. That's what I said. I didn't say nothing about keeping it." As he continued, Harley felt her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. _No...no--no, this wasn't--this wasn't how this was supposed to go...he was supposed to be okay now! This--no, this wasn't fair. This was not fair!_

"But--but puddin'--"

"But what? What, Harley? What did you think?" He cackled, facepalming. "Oh my god, you really thought I'd be okay by now? Didn't my actions earlier make it obvious I still wasn't okay with this whole thing? How much clearer do I need to make myself, even Frost would've gotten the point by now."

"You're not makin' any damn sense, puddin'! What are we gonna do if you're not killin' it, then? Am I supposed to kill it? I ain't doing that!"

"I never said you had to, Harls. No one's gonna die...we just.... you have the baby, and... well..."

It was now that Harley realized where this was going.

"No...no! No! Give it up? Is that it? I don't want to do that either!" She protested, her voice growing loud enough to alert passerby’s. They looked for a second, only to quickly scurried away, not wanting to get involved in whatever was going on. Mister J growled and turned away from her, and this time, she grabbed him by the hand, not like him, who had continuously snatched her arm.

"Puddin'...I wanna have this baby. You don't understand. I really--really wanna have this baby, I wanna raise it. I don't want anyone else to raise it but me, I'm it's momma."

"Being a little selfish, aren't you?"

"Selfishness has nothin' to do with this!" Harley snapped, digging her nails into his hand. He shifted, yanking his hand free. "Why can't you just let me have this one thing? Please! You always said I could have anything I wanted, why can't I have this baby?"

"I told you why. It wouldn't--" The Joker lowered his voice, not wishing to attract the attention of anymore passerby’s like Harley had done. "It wouldn't work for us, Harls. We can't have kids, that's it. We just can't. Our lives were not--meant, for children."

Harley squinted at him, she detected something in his voice. The desperation was back perhaps, but there was something else.

"You're lying..."

"I'm not--"

"You are! You're lying! There's something else, what is it?"

His whole expression darkened, telling her she'd struck a nerve. Shifting on his feet, he avoided eye contact and looked anywhere but her, anywhere, before delivering his reply.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit. What is it?"

"I don't know!"

"What is it, Mistah J? What is it?" She kept prodding, even poking at his chest several times. "Why? What's the real reason you don't want this baby, what is it?"

This was enough to break him. Her hand was slapped away from him and he tore his hat off, screaming angrily, and throwing it into the same puddle her purse had fallen into. Grumbling, and growling, he spun away from Harley, mumbling something to himself that she couldn't understand. No audible answer. She figured as much.

He was the same way anytime she'd tried getting a real answer out of him back at the asylum, back when she was naive and petty. She was still petty now, sure, and he was still the same stubborn ass she'd known back then. He wasn't going to tell her anything. Not a single thing.

Or maybe he really didn't know. But who was she to figure out? She thought she understood everything about him...evidently, she did not.

"I think Pammy was right all along. You don't care. You can't even give me a real reason, can you?" He didn't answer, he didn't look. Not even sparing him a smile, she shook her head at him, sadly, quietly.

"That's what I thought."

She scooped up her shopping bags from where they still sat, some puddle water having leaked through to the loaf of bread. The sound of her apparent departure was enough to shake Joker to look over at her, and he opened his mouth, not speaking just yet, but instead, simply lifting his finger to point. He hadn't realized until now his hands were violently shaking.

"Harley...Harley Quinn, don't you dare walk away from me. Don't you even dare." His voice sounded almost choked, but it wasn't enough to change Harley's mind. She did stop, to turn around to him, giving him a sad smile.

"Then stop me." she dared. "If you really care, stop me. Because unless you grow a fuckin' pair and let me have my baby, I'm walkin' away."

His finger stayed frozen in mid-air, quivering, shaking, wobbling. It began to lower, and he looked down. Unable to speak, his legs felt glued to the ground. He couldn't move, though his mind screamed at him to. So many voices were screaming at him right now, he couldn't make sense of any of them. Harley stared, waiting, watching him...but nothing. Nothing.

So much disappointment weighed her mood down, she felt an ache somewhere in her chest. But she couldn't bring herself to say much else. This confrontation had reached its climax, and had gone nowhere.

Turning her back for the last time, she heaved a huge sigh. Her throat felt swollen, and tight. She took a small step forward, and when she didn't hear him coming after her, continued, right out of the alley.

This was enough to shake him from his sullenness, and he started in her direction.

"Harley!"

She didn't stop walking, continuing out onto the road, across it. Joker stopped himself at the edge of the alley, part of him wanted to keep walking, part of him was screaming to go after her, part of him told him to stay put.

"No one walks away from me, Harley Quinn! You get back here right now or so help me God--I'll make you come back myself! And I promise, it won't be pretty!"

Thankfully by now, no one was out to even witness this altercation, not even the store clerk. He really must've had his music turned up to the max. Now across the street, standing beneath a streetlight, Harley stopped. She stayed, frozen in the same position.

_Don't look back. Don't even look back at him, Harls._

She didn't. Strongly tempted, as much as she was, her gaze stayed forward. Her eyes were burning with tears which were aching to escape, her throat now fully swollen to the point of where she couldn't even bring herself to speak.

_Don't. Don't._

_Don’t look back._

"Harley!" _Shut up, please shut up--oh god._ "If you don't come back right now--"

_No, please--please--_

"--then you can't come back at all. That's my final warning, Harley! Harley!"

At last, tears started leaking, staining her face. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, releasing a choked sob.

_Don't cry over him, don't. You've wasted enough tears on him. Think of your baby._

Yeah...her baby. Not his baby. He didn't deserve it.

Ivy really had been right this whole time.

Gripping the bags tightly, she straightened her form, and continued walking away. Kept walking, not stopping. By now, the Joker had stopped yelling after her, the only thing he could muster was a weak cry of her name before moving to the other side of the alley, grabbing onto the wall. He watched her, watched her for as long as he possibly could before she disappeared from his view.

_You let her go again, J... you pussy. You let her go._

_What aren't you admitting to yourself? Why can't she have the baby?_

That pain in his chest returned, even bigger this time. But it wasn't a physical pain, he knew it. He knew why it was back.

Curling his fist into a tight ball, he smacked it straight into the brick wall several times before finally falling face first against the wall, screaming as loud as he possibly could.

Gone. She was gone again. Gone for good.

And this time, it was his fault.

 


	12. Chapter 12

It was amazing how quickly time could pass when your mind was occupied.

Like those times when she was a kid, and she’d be in her room, reading a book, maybe doodling a picture, while she waited for supper to ready. As she came to the end of the chapter, it was almost like she’d spent the whole past hour in another world; like even though time had passed, it didn’t feel real. How quick the hour had gone; and the next thing she knew she was at the dinner table with the rest of her family.

If Harley had to describe the past four months in her life, that’s how she would explain it.  Had you asked her, it hadn’t even felt like it’d just been four months. It’d felt longer; even though things had been so going along so quickly, she couldn’t believe it that just a meager number of months had passed instead. Perhaps, things were going so quickly, her mind hadn’t had a chance to adjust to things.

Perhaps that was it.

She wouldn’t say that those months had been lonely though; Ivy came over as often as she could and would update Harley on the Gotham crime scene, which was about as typical as one would expect in this godforsaken city. It was a cesspool for chaos; and as time went on, Harley was beginning to feel restless. She was beginning to miss the thrill of speeding through the city in Joker’s lambo, the anticipation she felt when holding a gun, the sight of blood, the sound of fearful screaming.

These things were such an adrenalin rush to her. Why, just the other day, she’d been overcome with a huge temptation to just go find trouble in an alley somewhere. Just to do something; whether it was get into a scuffle with some street thugs, or even just be out in the action again…she’d been so tempted.

But she’d had to remind herself she had someone else to think about. It wasn’t just about her anymore.

While it did feel odd that only four months had passed; it also amazed Harley. The first three months of her pregnancy had been rough, the morning sickness being relentless and keeping her down for most of the day. When she’d had a chance to step outside her apartment, she’d ended up striking up a conversation with the older lady who lived across from her. Mrs. Peterson, a nice lady, the same one who’d let Harley pet her dog when she’d moved in. She was well into her early seventies, and made for pleasant conversation. Not to mention she was half-blind, so Harley could get away with letting a few tattoos show while they talked.

During this particular conversation in the hall, she’d taken the opportunity to complain about her morning sickness to Mrs. Peterson, who easily sympathized with her in the fact that the poor woman had had over nine of her own kids. Harley could never imagine having that many; having this one was already taking a toll on her, and she mentally saluted the woman.

Being the nice old lady, she was, Mrs. Peterson had recommended some kind of herbal tea as a remedy, which Harley had drank religiously until the fourth month hit. By then, the nausea had stopped, and Harley had made a note to scratch the older lady off her hit list and bring by a fresh batch of cookies as a thank you. She’d become of the few neighbors she could tolerate, everyone else had been a pest and Harley was only nice to them because they’d given her free stuff.

Most of the other time, they always wanted to talk her in the hallway; when all she really wanted to do was get her damn laundry done. The old lady was thankfully never one to bother her if she looked busy.

Well, her and Teddy, of course.

Aside from Ivy and Mrs. Peterson, Harley had taken a shine to the little boy. In these past months, she’d easily befriended him; he’d come over sometimes, and they’d have a fun chat. They’d talk about anything and everything; he’d even ask her about the baby sometimes. He was such a curious little bugger, almost like her when she was a kid. That’s probably why she liked him so much.

But it was still strange; she wasn’t sure what kind of parent would be careless enough to let their kid wander around an old apartment building by themselves, but then again, her own mother had let her get lost in the supermarket once when she was five years old. It wouldn’t be too shocking if that was the same case.

On top of that, the kid never seemed to want to talk about his parents. At the mention of them, he’d just shrug and give some vague answer. It made Harley’s natural curiosity even greater than it really was, but she decided not to pry. Maybe it was none of her business what was going on with Teddy; she still couldn’t place why it was he looked so familiar.

Given that he’d looked like a young version of her old professor, she’d pondered the thought that this might be his kid; but the guy had been loaded. He wouldn’t be living in a rundown place like this, so the possibility of that had been tossed out of the window a long time ago. It wasn’t something to dwell on, really, she had other things to keep her occupied.

Like that old photo album; she’d gone back to look at throughout these months, still very much curious about the old photographs, the missing photographs even. It’d been something to keep her occupied and distracted; ever since that incident with Joker, she’d been doing everything to keep her mind away from it.

Playing detective had proved to be somewhat interesting; though nobody in the apartment had seemed to know much about who had lived in her old apartment, when she’d asked. It wasn’t surprising considering many of them had just moved there in recent years, and those photos looked as if they dated back to the early 2000s. Mrs. Peterson had been the only tenant who had been there during those years; any others from that time had seemed to have moved out.

So, out of curiosity, Harley had inquired to the older lady about the previous tenants whilst she was visiting for tea one day. She’d seemed surprised Harley had mentioned it, and had softly chuckled, sipping her tea.

“Isn’t that a story to tell…” she’d mused. “No, dear, I don’t think that’s something you want to concern yourself with.”

Still, Harley had prodded. If her curiosity about Teddy’s parents couldn’t be sated, she at least wanted to get to the bottom of this photograph mystery.

Finally, Mrs. Peterson had relented. As she’d held out a plate of muffins Harley’s way, she’d told her the tale. A young couple had lived there a long time ago; back when the current landlady’s mother had owned the building.

 The young woman she remembered, was about as “sweet and pretty as a daisy”, and her husband…. well, he’d seemed to be a troubled man. The little family had been expecting their first baby, and apparently struggling to make ends meet. What happened to them had practically become a local ghost story; the husband had gotten mixed up with some local gang, and disappeared shortly after his wife had been killed in a freak electrocution accident.

“What about the baby?” Harley had instantly asked, she wasn’t sure why though. Maybe it was just her pre-maternal instinct making itself known.  Mrs. Peterson sadly told her that the baby had also died in the accident; doctors had tried to save it, but to no avail. When it came to the husband’s disappearance, most of the tenants had suspected that he’d might have murdered his wife and then ran off with some other woman; some thought he’d died as well. Lots of people had even suspected the apartment was cursed; thus why no one had moved into it for such a long time.

So that explained who used to live there. But, it still didn’t explain the missing pictures; even Mrs. Peterson didn’t seem to know about those. When Harley had asked what she thought, she’d just sighed sadly and sat her tea cup down.

“I just don’t know, Lena. I suppose…the past is just too hard for some people to cope with.” She’d adjusted her glasses, squinting. “They’d rather just forget everything and move forward; even if it means ridding themselves of memories they once found precious.”

This conversation had gone on the other day.

But what the old woman had said to Harley had stuck with her.

_Memories…a precious thing._

_Hah, yeah. Not in my case, honey._

Sure, she had her fair share of memories, none that she cared to remember or ones she barely remembered. She had some fond ones, like her first gymnastics competition…she had some bad ones too, like her brother pinning her down on the ground after she’d eaten the last bagel. He’d beat her up over a fucking bagel, how ridiculous. It would make her laugh if it weren’t the fact that her mother had done nothing to intervene and had let her daughter go to school with a bruised face.

Things like that angered her; amongst many other memories. It was odd how many of her good childhood memories were gone; so many vanished after Joker had shocked her brain…how odd, that many of the bad ones had chosen to stay.

This is what was in her mind when she’d stepped out of the shower. Passing by the mirror, she caught sight of her reflection, stopping. By now, the dyed tips of her hair had faded, and no thanks to her pre-natal vitamins, her hair had grown to long lengths. It looked like it did back when she was in prison, just less neglected. She almost didn’t recognize herself again.

Her eyes travelled down; down her body. A towel hung halfway around her body, but she slowly pulled it back, slowly pressing her hand against the tiny, bare bump on her stomach. She sucked in a sharp breath as a chill rippled through her spine; whether it was from the sudden cold air from the AC or not, she didn’t know, but she remained staring down at it.

Four months…

Five more, and she’d have plenty of new memories to make. Good ones, fun ones.

At least, she hoped they’d be good ones.

Maybe she could start off those good memories today, she was throwing her baby shower after all. Given that she was at the fourth month now, Dr. Hoffman had told her she could find out the baby’s gender if she wanted to.  This had excited Harley, but she didn’t feel okay with not sharing a moment like that with her friends. So, she’d elected to waiting until today to find out.

Though, she had debated in her mind if these were results she would want Frost to hand over to Mister J. It’d been awhile since their last conversation…if his mind had changed, he sure hadn’t told her anything. She’d settled in the fact that she would probably be raising this kid all by herself.

Well, no point in depressing herself with that thought any further.

Turning the bathroom light off, she exited into the hallway and tread into her room to get changed.

* * *

 

“I’ve heard of doing shots at parties, but I’ve gotta admit; this looks ridiculous.” Ivy mumbled whilst Harley arranged a small bunch of baby bottles on the coffee table.  Selina Kyle, in one of the rare instances that she actually hung out with the other two women, sat across from Ivy with her legs crossed, shooting Harley’s arrangement an amused look.  Given her back and forth status as a villain, she rarely if ever associated herself with Ivy and Harley, but given that the latter woman had practically begged her to come over; she really couldn’t pass it up.

“It _looks_ ridiculous, but it’ll be fun! Lots of people do it at their baby showers, Red!” Harley insisted, screwing off the cap on one bottle.

“So says the internet. Why couldn’t we have just decorated paper plates or something?” The redhead blew out a sigh, leaning back in her seat.

“Yeah, I’ve got to say I’m on her side. I don’t see the point in doing shots if alcohol isn’t involved.” Selina agreed, arching one eyebrow as she watched Harley pour lemonade into one of the bottles. “We might as just be drinking this shit out of normal cups.”

“There’s no fun in that, though! C’mon guys, it’s my shower.” The blonde protested, moving on to the next bottle. “It could’ve been a lot worse ya know; I was half-tempted to have us play the dirty diaper game.”

 “I…really don’t want to know what that game would’ve involved…” Ivy’s response caused Selina to snort and she crossed her arms. Harley snickered and finished pouring water into the last bottle, screwing the cap on.

“It’s not as bad as you think, Pammy. The only reason we ain’t doing it is because I burnt the damn chocolate instead of melting it. I already had the lemonade trust me. This,” She gestured around the table. “Was all improvised, ladies. Now c’mon, drink up. Winner gets their present opened first.”

She picked up her bottle, and both Ivy and Selina exchanged looks with each other. Selina shrugged, and picked up one of the other bottles.

“What the hell, what’ve we got to lose? At least this won’t give me a hangover.”

Harley grinned, and looked over at Ivy.

“Red? Come on, we’re waitin’.”

Ivy side-eyed her friend, then sighed.

“Why not…” she muttered, grabbing the last bottle. All three women tipped the bottles like shot glasses before each taking a sip. Harley and Ivy all but sputtered at the sour taste, but weren’t quick enough to finish before Selina slammed her own bottle back on the coffee table with a triumphant smile.

“I’ve had bourbon worse than that.” She remarked. “Looks like you get to open my gift first, honey.”

It did take a moment for Harley to find her voice; spitting her tongue out, shaking herself, just to rid herself of the sour taste in her mouth. Ivy had recovered quicker, although her mouth still puckered.

“G-god, that was bitter. What happened, Harley, did you buy sour lemons or something?”

“No—nah, my neighbor gave me the lemons. I don’t know if I put too much sugar in or what— “ Harley gagged, waving her hand.  She hit her chest, letting out a small cough, and glanced around quickly.

“Shit, gifts. Yeah, hang on.” She was about to reach over and dig through the pile, but Selina had beat her to it. The darker haired woman was holding a large, gift-wrapped box, and handed it over to Harley. One would almost question how she’d managed to scoop it out of the pile first; but given her profession, it wasn’t that much of a surprise to either Harley or Ivy.

Harley smiled gratefully as she took the present from Selina, running her hand over the sparkly pink bow. She noticed a small gift tag and read it, awing out loud at what was written.

‘ _For the little clown.’_ She read. “Aw Cat, that’s so sweet, thank you!”

Selina just smiled and shifted in her seat, watching as Harley eagerly tore open the paper. She pulled the ribbon aside, tossing it on the table, and pulled out a big white gift box. Pulling off the cover, she gasped in delight at finding a pair of tiny baby pajamas inside; some with kitty pawprints all over them.

“These are so adorable!” she squealed, pulling out one pair to inspect. “Thanks, Selina! I love them!”

“Hey, you better. I actually spent money of those things.” Selina stated. “I don’t do that a lot, you know.”

“Yeah, we’re aware.” Ivy shot Selina a look. “Which makes it ironic that you don’t like hanging out with us, when you’re just as wanted as we are. I find it a bit redundant, don’t you?”

“That’s different. Theft is my job; you guys do what you for kicks.” The other woman stated, snatching up a pretzel from one of the snack bowls. “Or, you enjoy it. Not that I don’t enjoy my own work, but people only get hurt in my profession if they have to.”

“Yet you can sleep just fine at night.”

“Yeah? So what?” Selina crunched on the pretzel. “At least I get paid for my job. I don’t know about you two.”

“Hey now— “

“Red, leave it alone. We both know the real reason she won’t go full rogue.” Harley teased, setting the gift box aside. “She’s too concerned about what her billionaire boy toy will think.”

She laughed, only causing Selina to redden.

“Tha—that’s not it.” She protested, picking up another pretzel. “He…he knows what I do, he’s fine with it…sometimes.”

“Aha, sometimes. That’s what I thought.” Ivy jabbed a finger at her, smirking. “Just admit you’re a suck up and we’ll all be happy.”

“No! God, what would it take for you two to not harp on me about this every time we meet up?”

“I dunno, how about twenty bucks?”

“Hey—hey girls, cut it out.” Harley shifted uncomfortably whilst picking up another gift box from the pile. She’d only intended to start this conversation with playful banter, but relationships were quite the touchy subject for the group to talk about. Selina would almost always become agitated over Harley’s and Ivy’s teasing over her “boyfriend”, not that she ever disclosed that much information about it, and Lord only knew what she and Ivy had to say about Harley’s relationship. Most of these conversations always ended up with Ivy stating that she was content being single.

Today was not one of those days she wished to have that kind of discussion about. Especially if anyone dared to bring anything up her own relationship status…which, if it were a Facebook status, it would no doubt be marked as “complicated” right now.

“She was asking me what it would take, Harley, I was only answering—“ Ivy started, but she stopped at seeing the quiet expression on Harley’s face. Clearing her throat, she placed both hands in her lap and slumped back.

“Sorry.” she apologized, twisting her thumbs together. “It’s just been awhile since we’ve all gotten to chat;” Looking back up, she smiled and shrugged. “I guess I missed this kind of banter and got ahead of myself.”

“I sure as hell didn’t miss it.” Selina rolled her eyes.  “You wonder why I’m always distancing myself from you two. Drama follows you around like a stray cat.”

“Says the one who goes by Catwoman. You’re not one to talk, Sel.” Harley giggled a bit as she tore at the wrapping paper.

“Yeah, and don’t act like me and Harley are the only ones with drama in our lives.” Ivy pointed out, leaning forward in her seat, her hands now on her knees. “You’re the one dating a billionaire; you tell us. If anything, I’m the one with the least amount of drama going on— “

“—because you’re single? Yeah, not the first time you’ve given us this spiel.” The other woman broke her pretzel in half and tossed it into her mouth. “Same old story, next page. Tell us something we don’t know.”

“Don’t ask a scientist something like, Selina, you’d be making a big mistake.”

“You know what I meant. “ Selina propped one finger against her forehead, and shifted to the side of her seat, sighing. “I’m not even dating him, technically. We’re just seeing each other, technically, nothing complicated involved. It’s an on and off again thing—“

“Sure, sure.”

 “—And if I remember correctly, I’m not the only person in this room who has a thing for on and off again relationships. Maybe you have room to talk, Ivy, but Harley has no space left. At least I have enough sense to leave when things go south.”

Harley had been too focused on the baby booties in her gift to even pay any mind to her friends’ conversation as it continued. The words just passed in and out of her ears as she had elected to not paying attention; but what Selina had just said caused her head to snap up.

“Hey, lay off her, Sel—“

“How come? I’m just saying—I’m surprised she didn’t claw his eyes out after the crap he pulled on her.” Selina stated. “Even I would’ve had enough common sense to do that. Her blind love for that piece of shit clown—almost got her and her kid killed, twice.”

 She felt her fingers tightly wrapping around the bootie she was holding, the eager smile on her face slowly wilting until it somewhat resembled the dying plant on her windowsill, in the sense that it was now bent down.

_You can’t let that bother you, you left for good this time. She can’t say that._

_It’s just petty talk, Harley, she didn’t mean it._

Both sides in her mind, logic and anger, were going back and forth whilst her nails continued to scratch at the bow on one of the booties. She had gone deathly silent, not even emitting any kind of noise to indicate her mind was even still there; this soon alarming Ivy and Selina. Both stopped talking and looked over at her, noticing the hurt look overtaking her face.

Selina’s mouth clamped shut.

“Oh…god. Harley, I’m sorry…” Her voice faltered, Ivy scowling at her.

“Fantastic job, Selina.” she scolded, getting up from her seat. She sat down next to Harley and immediately starting rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t listen to her, Harley. I’m sure she didn’t mean to go that far.”

“Hell no I didn’t, I don’t even know what got into me.” Selina briefly tossed her hands in the air, getting off her spot on the arm rest. “God, I’m sorry, Harley. Just— when you told me what happened…just--that whole situation, it pissed me off. I might not be as close to you as Ivy is, but Christ…”

Her hands hit the chair, clutching onto the fabric.

“I’m just concerned, that’s all. I didn’t mean to get so…I don’t know, I’m sorry if you didn’t want to be reminded.” Harley slowly looked over at her, her eyes misty. “Today’s supposed to be about you and your kid, I swear to God, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

_She apologized, see? She didn’t mean it._

_It still hurt though._

The smile feebly returned, and Harley reached over, grabbing Selina’s hand.

“I—it’s…it’s okay, Sel. I know…” She swallowed back a lump in her throat, squeezing her friend’s hand. “But…I’ve moved on past all that. It’s water under the bridge, like my gramps would say…it’s fine. Don’t feel too bad about it.”

“You sure? Because I—“

“I’m sure, ca---can we not discuss this anymore today, though?” Harley quickly cut her off, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer than she had to. She released Selina’s hand. “I just want to open the rest of these presents, no drama involved. Can we please do that?”

Selina stayed silent, then nodded.

“Yeah, okay. It’s your shower, after all. Whatever you say.”

So, Harley moved on to picking up another gift. She was about to open it when the faint noise of a door knock alerted all three women. Seeing that Harley had already started opening her gift, Selina moved to getting up.

“I’ll answer it, go ahead.” She smiled at Harley, and moved to walking towards the front door. Sounds of the wrapping paper being torn apart all but echoed through the small walls of the apartment, and the knocking continued. Selina opened it to find a box on the ground, one eyebrow lifting dubiously. Carefully, she picked it up, and after looking in the hall several times, shrugged, and headed back to where Ivy and Harley were gushing over a set of baby hats.

“Hey, Harley.” Harley looked up, Selina not even having to explain the box as the other woman squealed and jumped up, snatching the box from her. She started untying the string around it with eagerness, Selina having to repress a snort.

“Oh, so you’re in the business of just opening random boxes left on your doorstep, now…” she mused, stepping back. “Forgive me if I step out of the way, just in case.”

“Relax, will ya?” Harley snapped as she flipped the lid open, to reveal a beautifully decorated little cake with purple and green frosting on it. She gasped delightedly and took it from the box, setting it down on the coffee table whilst shoving a couple of snack bowls out of the way.

“Ain’t it pretty? I had Mrs. Peterson bake it for me.” She beamed, adjusting the plate. “I was wondering when she’d bring it over.”

“So, this is a Mrs. Peterson thing. How come she wasn’t at the door when I opened it?” Selina questioned curiously, careful to grab a snack bowl that now dangerously teetered off the edge of the table.

“Oh, this is the time of the day where she walks her dog. She probably had just enough to drop it off for me.” Harley sucked a bit of frosting off her finger before snatching the box back up. “Red, go get a knife, will ya?”

“I think the cake can wait, Harley, we’re still opening your presents.” Ivy pointed out, but any other words she might’ve had to say were stopped as Harley tossed the empty box her way.

“Nuh-uh! I’ve been waiting since yesterday to cut this damn cake, we’re cuttin’ it now!” She all but proclaimed, plopping down on the sofa. “This cake contains some vital information, if you don’t mind.”

“How—vital? Oh.” Ivy crossed herself, shaking her head. “Oh, this is one of those cheesy gender reveal things, isn’t it? I get it, okay. One knife coming right up.”

She departed to the kitchen to retrieve the knife and also toss the box away in the process. Harley all but bouncing off the edge of her seat waiting for Ivy to return; and all but snatched the knife from her as she came back. Ivy quickly stepped away and back into her own seat.

“Careful with that thing, Harls.” She warned in a teasing tone, only earning an annoyed glare from the blonde.

“Careful is my middle name, Red. I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” she chirped, twirling the sharp utensil in her hand. “Well—technically, it’s Frances but—that’s beside the point. Never mind, shut up.”

She stopped twirling the knife in her hand and looked at the cake, her breath hitching. Crap…this did not feel real. It didn’t feel real in the slightest. If you’d told her a year ago she’d be doing this, she would’ve had the biggest laughter fit, yet here she was. Part of her felt ecstatic, but there was also another part of with a pang that indicated something was missing.

_Someone._

Firmly, she tightened her fingers around the knife.

_No, shut up. He doesn’t deserve to be here, he doesn’t deserve to know. I owe him nothing._

Her hand started shaking. Now suddenly feeling very nervous, she glanced between both her friends.

“I don’t know if I’m ready…” she said, trembling.

“It’s just a cake, Harley, how hard can cutting it be?” Harley rapidly shook her head at Selina’s statement, lowering the knife down.

“N—nah, no. Not the cake, Sel.” she fretted, sucking in her lower lip. “A-after today…five months from today, I’m gonna be a momma. Today, I find out what I’m gonna be a momma to…I guess, I dunno, maybe—“

“Don’t talk like that, Harley. You’re going to be a great mother.” Ivy reassured her immediately. “You’ve already shown that; you’ve shown you wanna protect this kid. That’s why you’re not…you know, that’s why you’re here instead of where you were.”

“Ivy’s right. In society’s eyes, you might not be the most fit to be a parent, but you’re the parent this baby needs.” Selina added. “You’ve got this, honey, don’t worry.”

 Her trembling slowly ceased. She loosened her grip on the knife, inhaling deeply.

Slowly but surely, a determined, confident smile overcame her face.

“Yeah…yeah, I’ve got this. I have so got this.”

She lifted the knife.

“Time to find out if I’m gonna be havin’ a prince or princess, then.”

The knife cut through the cake. Harley watched as a piece fell loose and hit the cake plate, revealing the inside of the frosted cake to be…a bright pink. Her eyes widened as it fully sunk in, her feeling a loud, excited scream coming up her throat. She covered her mouth as the scream exited, and she bounced in her seat.

“A girl! A little girl, Red! Selina!” Springing from her seat, she grabbed onto both her friends as she started jumping up and down in delight. “I’m havin’ a princess! My own little princess!”

“Oh my god, congratulations, Harls!” Ivy pulled her into a tight hug, as Harley continued squealing and bouncing. Selina stood up, almost stumbling back as Harley jumped into her arms for a hug as well.

“Ach—yeah, congrats, Harley.” She laughed, patting her on the back. “I knew I made a right call getting those pajamas in pink.”

“Ah come on, I would ‘a used ‘em even if I was having a boy.” Harley broke their hug, laughing.   After finally calming down, she took several breaths and placed her hand against the swell of her stomach, feeling a shudder of ecstasy ripple through her entire body.

_A little girl._

_It’s a little girl, puddin’. Our very own little clown princess._

_I wish you could be as happy as I am._

* * *

 

**_Five Months Later_ **

* * *

 

Long work days for some people meant hours of pouring over paperwork, for others it meant hours of attending a cash register even if there weren’t any visible customers. For some, it even meant washing stacks upon stacks of dirty dishes.

For Bruce Wayne, long work days meant sitting in front of his vast array of computers. Watching some news report maybe, reading a police report. Not something you’d expect the CEO of a huge company to be doing, but something that only Batman would be doing.

And this was one of those long work days.

For approximately nine months now, it had been long work days; inside and out of the Batcave. Whether it was pouring over newspaper articles and perusing any kind of information that might be helpful. But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t find anything he was looking for. Any answer, any means of finding out the reasoning behind these violent attacks launched on Gotham for these past several months.

But there was nothing. Every article, every police report, every news report said the same as anything he’d looked at.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he leaned back in his chair, surveying the several screens. Footage from several weeks ago had been on re-play for about an hour now, that showed a bombing in downtown Gotham. The suspects, as per usual, were decked out in ridiculous getups, making it more than easy to tell that this had been the Joker’s work. Trying to figure out exactly who had been behind these attacks was not why he was still watching this footage; it for another reason entirely different.

Not because all the goons were there, not because Joker was there—those things were evident and quite obvious. It was more or less the lack of a certain someone that puzzled Bruce.

And this wasn’t even the first time that someone hadn’t shown up to a fight.

That someone being the Joker’s other half; Harley Quinn. She followed him around like a lost puppy, so to have not seen her at any of these incidents for the past nine months had greatly confused Bruce. He knew that the clown couple was infamous for their continuous fighting; once, during one event where he’d managed to subdue both of them, it was only because they’d stopped to bicker over the fact that Harley had dropped her gun into the sewer.

Wherever the clown went, his queen was never far behind.

So, why had she been so quiet lately?

He’d not given much thought to it the first couple of times; he’d simply thought it was due to another argument that she hadn’t shown. But again, and again, he’d arrived to fight Joker, and there he was without her. He never had an answer for where she was, and by now, Bruce had stopped asking.

The next thought he’d had was that perhaps she’d been arrested, and had been thrown back into Belle Reve. That would explain the attacks; Gotham had not rested peacefully in the days Harley had been imprisoned. But then he would’ve heard about that; a criminal like Harley being locked up was always bound to make some kind of news.

It was just all so puzzling. He’d tried not to let it bother him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something was very off; it probably wasn’t his business to snoop, but he knew he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he knew what was going on. It was his nature by now, never wanting to leave a stone unturned. For all he knew, those two clowns could be planning something diabolical; he’d have to be ready either way.

“Master Wayne.”

Bruce, having almost nodded off in his chair, glanced up as Alfred came over to stand next to him. The older man looked up at the screen, visibly dismayed to find the news footage still playing.

“You’re still watching this, sir? I’d have thought you’d turned your attention somewhere else by now.”

“I would if I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Bruce admitted, scooting his chair back. He got up and leaned against the desk, moving to replay the footage for the umpteenth time. “I don’t know, Alfred. I just keep feeling like I’m missing something. Not just with this footage but—but with all the others. It’s odd.”

“There’s still a chance you’re obsessing over nothing, though.” Alfred wisely reminded him, his hands behind his back. “Everyone in Gotham knows how much those two fight; it’s not all that surprising she wasn’t there.”

“Maybe not, but for nine months in a row?” Bruce tossed the other man a quizzical expression, crossing himself. “The only time she was ever gone for that long was Belle Reve. And I’ve heard nothing about that; in fact, I know that’s not it—“

“Because you would’ve been the one to bring her in, sir?”

“More or less.” He shut the screen off and turned to walk away from the desk. “No one else has ever truly managed to subdue those two. No one else knows them like I do. No one else knows half of what they’ve done. What they’re capable of.”

Upon saying this, his gaze almost instantly went to the Robin suit encased in a nearby glass case. He walked over to it and stared, quietly. He touched the glass, memories filling his mind; memories too horrid to even state out loud. It wasn’t like he needed to say anything though, Alfred didn’t say anything about it either. He knew very well what was going on in Bruce’s mind right now, and he knew better than to speak on the subject.

Quietly, Bruce looked back at him.

“I just want to make sure they aren’t planning anything, that’s all.”

He walked back to the desk, and started typing something on the keyboard. Alfred cleared his throat, nodding slowly.

“If you say so, Master Wayne. I suppose it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Bruce agreed, bringing up another video. “Anyways, what did you need? I already told you earlier I probably wouldn’t be wanting lunch today, Alfred.” 

“You did, sir, and I’m sorry, but—“ Alfred stopped shortly. “It’s not that. I’m afraid you have a visitor waiting for you upstairs. You remember Ms. Vreeland, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Well, she’s in the living room right now, as we speak. Apparently from what she said, you two were supposed to be going out today…”

The video stopped playing.

“I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, sir. You know how she is—“

“I know, I know.” Bruce interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. In the midst of everything, he’d completely forgotten about any social events he had going on. Not that he actually wanted to spend time with the likes of Veronica Vreeland, but…her father was rich. The influences on the company was needed, as much spending anytime with the young woman was a bit stressful.

“If you don’t mind me suggesting it, I think you need the break. With everything the Joker’s been up to lately, there’s no way you’ll be able to tell when he’ll attack next. Try not to think about it, sir.” Alfred was saying, as Bruce walked past him, away from the desk.

He stopped. Almost conveniently, right in front of the Robin suit again. He almost had to force himself not to look at it again, but he didn’t need to. Not when the ugly yellow words were embedded in his mind…not when that voice was still there, saying those same words. Repeating them, in an almost taunting manner.

_Try not to think about it, huh?_

“…that…is something easier said than done, Alfred.” he mumbled, uncurling his fists, which he hadn’t realized were clenched.  Without another word, he started walking off. Alfred watched him leave, then looked back at the screen, which displayed Harley Quinn’s case file on one side. Sadly shaking his head, he proceeded to follow after, the lights in the Batcave soon dimming as both men departed.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Whenever a store had a sale, the first thing you’d expect was a barrage of people charging in through any entrance they could find. Nobody liked to miss out on deals; especially if it meant finally snagging that expensive pair of shoes they’d been lusting after for months. This was no exception for the Winslow Department Store, which was now hosting its annual Spring sale, and was all but jam packed with many of Gotham’s citizens.

Harley stood in one aisle, inspecting the little outfit she held in one hand. It was a small, purple dress, complete with bows and frills. The other outfit she held was a green sundress, complete with a matching white bow. She held both these dresses in her hands for two minutes, inspecting each thoroughly, before shrugging and draping them both over her arm, and crossing over to the next rack of tiny clothes. Almost instantaneously, she noticed a pair of hooded teddy jammies and squealed, snatching it up to look at.

Boy, did she love seasonal sales. It gave her an excuse to go crazy and buy a lot of shit without feeling the heavy guilt of spending a crap ton of money. She already had quite the selection of baby pajamas and dresses; amongst some booties and socks. Her basket was teeming with all these items, and anything she couldn’t fit in the basket rested on her arm.

The teddy jammies would unfortunately not be one of those outfits; as the more she looked over it, discovered the price tag was a bit off for having been on the clearance rack. Some co-worker must’ve misplaced it; and while she would have gladly purchased it, even she had to admit she had enough baby stuff to fill a room with. Not just in her basket, not just on her arm, but even back at her apartment.

The fact that nine months had passed still weirded her out; she could’ve sworn she’d woken up the other day, back in the penthouse, still suffering from morning sickness. Over this time, she’d been extremely careful to stay out of the spotlight, something she’d already been doing tediously in the earlier days of her pregnancy, but given that the ninth month had officially been reached; now she had to be careful more than ever.

Harley let off a small huff as she tossed the teddy jammies back onto the rack, and departed out of the aisle. She looked over everything she had; several pairs of booties, dresses, jammies; even some cute little hairbows. Naturally the baby wouldn’t have a lot of hair to style the minute it was born, but damn did she looked forward to getting to play around with all the bows and headbands.

Ever since she’d found out she was having a girl, she’d taken to buying every cute outfit she saw; not to mention the extra room at the apartment was entirely decked out in a fun mix of red and white. She’d been serious when she’d mentioned that circus theme, though her original plan had been to have it set up at the penthouse. Of course, it was only after she suggested that did Joker drop the bomb on her; the bomb being that he still didn’t want the baby. Following that encounter, she’d tried to do everything possible to forget about it, yet it constantly ate away at her.

The Joker had said she was being selfish; wanting to keep the baby and raise it, instead of giving it a normal life. This had bothered her for the longest time. When she actually stopped to think about how dysfunctional her own childhood had been, she couldn’t fathom the idea of her own kid’s childhood being a train wreck. Living off other people’s generosity and the stolen credit card from Ivy was all well and good right now; but what about college? What about when her daughter was in high school, she’d be flat broke and wearing thrift store clothes, no doubt.

That was why Harley had decided as soon as the baby was born, she was going to seek out a job.

It wasn’t something she wanted to do, no, in fact she hated the idea of having to work a dead-end job, it wasn’t something she wanted to do; it was simply something she knew she had to do if she didn’t want her kid to be subject to a life of ridicule. She did want the best for her after all; nothing but the best. Why, she could be eating out of the hands of kings if only—

_No, no. We’ve gone so long without thinking about him, we aren’t bringing him up now, Harley._

Her thoughts were cut off abruptly by the voice. Stopping mid-stride to another aisle, Harley pressed her lips together, inhaling.

_But she would, she’d have everything! She’s practically royalty!_

**_No! We’re not bringing him back up, you hear me?_ **

_But it’s been so long, Harley, surely--_

“Shut up.” she muttered, shifting the outfits to her other arm. Saying this out loud had not been her intent, but god, anytime she thought she had a moment to enjoy herself; everything turned to crap in her mind. She moved before anyone else in the store had a moment to question why she was randomly talking to herself; as apparently, that wasn’t acceptable public behavior.

Any lingering negativity vanished upon Harley’s spotting of a gorgeous dress on display. Well, not on display technically, it was on the rack; but directly in her viewpoint. It did not look like it was on a clearance rack however, and though Harley’s intention in coming to this store had only been to buy any and everything on clearance; the temptation was weighing quite heavily.

She started walking towards it, but stopped.

Did she really want to blow God-knows how much money on something she probably wouldn’t even be able to fit into for another four months?

…

Yeah.

Yeah, she did.

She deserved to get something for herself, everything had been all about the baby for so long. It was about time she treated herself to something nice.

Even if she would have to down a few diet shakes to fit into it after having the baby.

Her beeline for the dress continued, and she could see its design coming into a clearer view as she got closer. It was a deep purple, almost silk looking. The skirt looked like it would stop at her knees, and had a very oh-so-tight waistline, it looked like just the kind of thing she’d wear on a night out on the town. Oh, nights out on the town were definitely going to be a comeback one of these days. She pictured her, decked out in the dress, alongside Ivy and Selina, hitting up some club in downtown Gotham while Mrs. Peterson babysat for her. Of course, she wouldn’t do this every night; maybe just on the weekends.

_And damn did she want alcohol._

Having been momentarily distracted by the vision of a margarita, she’d failed to notice the dress being taken off the rack until the last second. Blinking back into attention, disappointment fell over her face at seeing some woman with huge hoop earrings and a pair of high-heels that made Harley’s feet ache to just look at (normally the idea of wearing high-heels wouldn’t make her feet hurt, but with how much her feet had swelled during the pregnancy, she couldn’t even stand the idea of trying to walk in a pair of those things), now holding the dress and showing it off to the woman next to her.

Maybe it would be wise to not cause a scene, and she really did try to walk away; but she felt just a tad bitter. She’d seen that dress first, that should count as her claim to it. This wouldn’t have been the first time someone had snatched up something she wanted, and those times had never ended well for the other individual. Her easiest grab had probably been that purse she’d snatched from the store shop window during the attack on New York; god, she missed that thing.

Tightening her hold on her basket, Harley attempted to shove the rest of the outfits on her arm into it despite it being stuffed full; and stormed over to where the two women were standing. Storming over wasn’t exactly the right word considering she was nine months pregnant and going as fast as she possibly could, but she’d already laid a claim on that dress in her mind, she wasn’t going to walk away without it. Perhaps a very petty attitude for an expectant mother to have, but nonetheless, she stepped up to the woman she mentally dubbed Big Hoops and tapped her on the shoulder.

Big Hoops had been previously chatting to the woman Harley assumed was her friend, and looked around, giving off a very unamused glance at seeing the plainer individual behind her. Yeah, maybe she did look a bit frumpy compared to these two, and that almost made her wilt and back off upon seeing the woman’s obvious disdain, but she’d be damned if she didn’t get her hands on that silk.

“Can…I help you?” she asked. Her friend, whom Harley dubbed Racoon (due to her thick eyeliner), shot her an almost-identical look, all the while putting her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, actually. That dress has my name on it; would you mind handing it over?” Harley was very direct in her statement, not wanting to hang around these two tramps any longer than she had to. Big Hoops reeked of some expensive perfume that made her want to sneeze; and by god, Racoon needed to go see a makeup artist.

Both women eyed her up and down, discreetly, before responding. They immediately took notice to her huge baby bump, and Racoon snorted whilst Big Hoops lifted her eyebrows, lifting a hand to her mouth to stifle a cackle.

“Not that I would’ve said yes anyways, hon—but I think you’re in the wrong section. Maternity stuff’s in another aisle.” she stated, crossing her arms. “I mean, no offense, but I just don’t think this is your style.”

Harley snapped open her mouth to make some witty comment, but it fell flat. As the women began their catty banter again, she looked over to the dressing room mirror, no thanks to the door to the room being wide open. She looked back and forth between herself and the women; now feeling very frumpy once more. Her clothes were so plain compared to theirs; and their figures could be compared to a goddess’. Meanwhile, Harley herself was over here looking she’d swallowed a planet.

Slowly, she turned, almost wanting to walk away right then and there. She didn’t desire to start a scene at this present time, especially given how many security guards were flooding the store. No thanks because of the great sea of people that were running around.

However, she froze, catching wind of Big Hoops’ voice as she was heading into the dressing room.

“God—some nerve, right? She’d have to be dead six months if she wanted to fit into this thing; she’d have better luck stitching something together out of tent material.”

The basket nearly fell out of her hand.

_Okay, bitch._

_I tried to walk away._

Gritting her teeth together, Harley glanced around, noting that Racoon had also headed into the adjacent dressing room. Big Hoops tossed her clothes on the top of the door as she changed, the dress draped over it as well.

It was all too good an opportunity. One she was without a doubt, going to take. It was just too good; how could she pass it up? The bitch had basically insulted her behind her back, which was basically a coward’s move. She was only lucky Harley didn’t carry her bat and mallet with her all over the place, let alone her guns.

_No, that’s because they’re still back at Joker’s place—_

**_Yeah, if he hasn’t burned them by now. Shut up._ **

She at first made sure no guards were near, and quietly crept over to the dressing room to her best extent. Quietly, she snatched the dress up and to add insult to injury, snatched up Big Hoops’ shirt and pants, discreetly dumping them into a nearby trashcan as she strolled away, whistling a merry tune to herself. As she headed out of the women’s section, a huge, satisfied grin spread across her face as she heard protests and angry swears coming from the dressing rooms.

Taking out a couple of baby dresses, she quickly stuffed the purple cocktail dress into the basket and resumed her whistling, making her way over to the jewelry. It wouldn’t hurt to pick out some accessories now, maybe a necklace or two. And then maybe she’d peruse the makeup; just as a means of some planning ahead for her and her friends’ girls’ night.

Though, she’d have to make it quick and get to the register soon if she didn’t want to risk Big Hoops catching up to her. Perhaps the makeup could wait for another day.

At this same time, Bruce Wayne stood in the aisle opposite from Harley, who was now currently inspecting some necklaces. He looked almost impatient, waiting as the red-headed woman near him was going through several ties. She held up a black one, almost in suggestion.

“This one looks nice…”

“Ah…” Bruce shrugged, shoving his hands in his pants’ pockets. “I guess, it’s not really my thing though.”

“Bruce, seriously? It’s a plain, black tie. How can that not be your thing?” Veronica all but scowled at him, this being the twenty-fifth time precisely that he had said something along those lines. “You’ve said that about every tie in this damn store, you’re a billionaire. Don’t tell me it’s the price that’s scaring you off.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—don’t you think I have enough ties by now? I thought I was buying you stuff, not the opposite.”

“That’ll come later; I at least wanna treat you.” She sighed, throwing the tie back onto where it’d previously been hanging. “I gotta do something to make it up to you, since it seems to be such a bother for you to even socialize with me. The least I can do is make it worthwhile.”

“Veronica, really. You don’t have to.” Bruce insisted, removing his hands from his pockets. He walked over to her right as she lifted another tie and held it against his suit. He stood there in defeat; almost regretting his attempt to talk nice for once. Seemingly satisfied, Veronica grinned and stuffed the tie into the cart near them.

“I knew that one suited you.” She all but beamed, grabbing hold of the cart. “Now, onto suits. I think they have a few new styles that would look good on you.”

“Veronica—“ All but unwillingly, Bruce followed after, being able to stop the cart before she could walk away with it. “I’m fine, really. Like you said, I’m a billionaire. Suits are practically all I ever wear.”

“Yes, but…” Tipping her hat to the side, Veronica scanned him up and down, shrugging. “It doesn’t hurt to switch it up in a while. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Alfred was still picking out your wardrobe. Remind him you’re not twelve anymore, yeah?”

Without a second glance his way, she paraded off to the huge rack of suits. Bruce almost contemplated following, but decided against it. If he wanted to stare at suits, he’d have stayed at a CEO meeting all day. Veronica stopped halfway, almost sensing that he wasn’t following, and whirled around with the cart.

“Bruce! You coming?” she called, and although he did want to nod, almost instantly, he merely gave a stifled shrug, and something that could be akin to a half-nod.

“I…yeah, I don’t think so. You pick out something—I’ll just—go wait for you.”

This answer did seem to satisfy her, at least. She didn’t respond, just tipping her head at him, and resuming her trek back to the suits. It would’ve seemed childish of Bruce to give a sigh of relief at being away from her presence, but he couldn’t deny it felt like a huge pair of weights had been lifted off of him. Being Batman was tedious enough, but keeping up appearances as the billionaire playboy sometimes proved to be, if nothing, almost a big a challenge as wrestling a killer crocodile-mutant in the sewers.

_Get out of the house, it’ll do you some good, he says…fantastic advice, Alfred._

Well, Veronica got one point. She’d made him forget about his whole obsession with finding out Harley Quinn’s whereabouts, accompanied by trying to figure out Joker’s next moves. There was no doubt he was planning something, but what was the question? It’d only be a matter of time. Given the recent attacks, he was surprised that they were even allowing people out on the streets right now.

Caught mid-thought as he trekked over to the register, he barely registered the dark-haired woman in front of him as the two collided. Her basket, which was overfilled with small outfits, hit the tiled floor with a tiny clank, clothes spilling out everywhere. Thankfully, she hadn’t seemed to hit the ground, but she seemed pretty pissed about that basket.

Rightfully so, especially seeing how much stuff she’d stuffed into it.

Regardless, Bruce’s first instinct was to gasp and step back, as the woman knelt down to her best extent and grumbled, whilst starting to scoop up the clothes.

“Uh—I’m sorry, miss. Are you okay?” Redundant question, much.

“Yeah, just peachy, pal. It’s not like it took me ten minutes to get this crap to fit.” she bitterly replied, continuing to pick up clothes. Ten minutes were an exaggeration perhaps; when in reality, it had only taken Harley about six minutes. That was still a long amount of time wasted trying to stuff clothes into a basket instead of wisely grabbing a cart.

She still muttered under her breath, even as the tall stranger in front of her stood, and to her surprise, he knelt down, and picked up the cocktail dress right as her hand reached for it. He looked at it, with an almost amused expression, and eyed her. Harley only gave him a nasty look and snatched it, stuffing it back in alongside a pair of booties. She moved to retrieving the green sundress but found he had once more, already picked it up. Her nasty expression softened and she slowly took the dress, crumpling it in her hands.

“Thanks…” she mumbled.

Bruce apologetically smiled, as he stood back up.

“Ah, you’re welcome. I really am sorry about that though, I wasn’t looking. Should be more careful next time.” he said, offering his hand to assist Harley up from the floor. She hesitated at first, but slowly accepted his offer and she all but stumbled back on to her feet. She dusted herself off and scooped up one last pair of baby socks from the floor, tossing them into the basket.

“Maybe you need glasses; it could work wonders for you.” she joked.

“Hm, maybe. Or we could both watch where we’re going next time.” Bruce retorted, looking down briefly as his phone started buzzing. Veronica was probably texting him a picture of a suit, no doubt. “It’d help both sides of the guilty party to be more careful, don’t you think?”

“Not really my way of thinkin’, mister, but okay.” Harley laughed, adjusting her glasses. Now that she was standing, and level with this stranger, she got hit with that same sense of déjà vu that she felt when she saw the photographs in the album, and Teddy. She cocked her head, and Bruce, having previously been typing out a text to convince Veronica to just come over and show him the suit, caught on to her stare.

“Something…wrong?” he questioned, nervously chuckling.

Harley squinted, and readjusted her glasses again.

“Nah—it’s just—huh. I feel like I know you from somewhere…do I know you from somewhere? Have we met?”

Confusion wrote itself onto Bruce’s face and he seemed to be in serious contemplation for a second, looking at Harley seriously, as if he were trying to figure out if _he_ knew her or not. She didn’t blame him, it did seem a bit out of the blue that she’d ask him if she knew him. 

“Uh, no. I don’t think so, I tend to remember faces pretty well…”

Now even more curious, Harley made this awkward scene all the more awkward as she stepped a bit closer, shoving her basket onto her arm. Moving one hand up, she covered the higher half of Bruce’s face, thoroughly staring at the lower half.

“Somethin’ about the chin…it seems familiar…”

This earned another nervous chuckle from Bruce, until Harley pulled her hand back. Yeah, she did know him! For once, she could finally place the face, unlike the photographs and Teddy; she knew where she’d seen this one. On her television set, crappy as it was.

“Hang on, you’re Bruce Wayne, aintcha?” Almost instantly, Bruce seemed to relax. “The boy billionaire, right? I’ve seen you on television…thought you were shorter.”

This time, his chuckle didn’t seem quite as nervous, though it carried a hint of unease in it. She couldn’t place why, but promptly ignored. To be frank, she was quite star-studded at this present moment; the closest she’d ever gotten to meeting a celebrity was that time she’d snuck into a My Chemical Romance concert, and that’d been so long ago already. God, she was kind of grateful her emo days were all but gone from her memory…

“Well, I haven’t been the _boy_ billionaire for a long time…” Bruce stated, scratching the back of his head. “But other than that, you’re spot on. Sorry if the TV got your expectations too high.”

“That ain’t an issue; I learned a long time ago to keep my expectations at a low level.” Harley had to admit. Didn’t need to make a list of the various times her hopes had been crushed; it’d be as long as her Christmas list. Her eyes wandered down and she raised her brows.

“Ooh, but I see you’re still _quite_ the bachelor.” she remarked, upon noticing no signs of any rings on his fingers. He looked confused before realizing what she meant.

“Oh, yeah. Well, you know how it is…” he stopped, realizing this woman very well did not know what he meant. People really needed to quit using that as a throwaway phrase in conversations. “I mean, maybe not, but—“

“Bruce!”

Good god.

He all but winced at looking over to see Veronica running over, suit in hand. She was beaming, but that all but diminished as she noticed Harley standing next to him. She stopped, lowering the suit, and placing both hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was interrupting something.” she said, a slight hint of bitterness in her tone.

“Yeah, you kinda were. Didn’t your mommy tell you that was a rude thing to do?” Harley retorted, sliding the basket off her arm. Veronica eyed Harley and snickered.

“I don’t know. Did yours tell you to wear sweatpants in public?” 

“Why you bitc—“

“Ehem—“ Bruce held his arm out, stopping Harley as she started towards Veronica, seemingly with the intent of striking her with the incredibly lethal-looking basket. She grumbled, folding her arms, yet maintained a death glare towards the other woman. Was it just her day to run into bitch after bitch, or was she just incredibly unlucky?

“It wasn’t anything that bad, Veronica. She dropped her things and I was just helping her.” Oh, good, at least he was defending her. “Nothing to get petty over.”

“Huh, okay. Sure.” Veronica brushed it off, shrugging, and held the suit up again. “Anyways, what do you think?”

Bruce looked at the suit, which was a very ugly shade of grey and was buttoned from the top down. He looked back at Harley.

“Hm, I don’t know. What do you think?”

Harley eyed the ugly suit, and wrinkled her nose, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t even wear that to a funeral.”

Bruce and Harley’s mutual agreement annoyed Veronica and she pouted, tossing the suit back into the cart.

“Nice to know who your real friends are, Bruce…” she muttered, fully prepared to turn around and leave. Though something seemed to click in Harley’s mind while she watched the woman saunter off, and she gasped, running after her (the best she could) .

“Hey, wait a sec! I know you too!” This caused Veronica to stop, and she looked back at Harley with a very doubtful glare.

“Really now? What a small world…” She prepared to leave once more, but Harley had caught up and looked seriously at the woman’s face, an excited smile appearing on her own.

“Yeah, I do know you! I saw you at some gala last year!”

“You’ll have to be more specific, dear, I’ve been to many galas.” Veronica shot a coy smile Harley’s way, as Bruce caught up to two of them.

“Shit, yeah. Well, it was for some science foundation—“

“Not ringing a bell.”

“Hang on, I wasn’t finished.” Harley interrupted. “It was for some science foundation, or something military-related. It was also the first gala of that year, and the first gala that the Joker crashed that year.”

Veronica looked astonished at Harley’s recollection, surprised at the fact she seemed to even remember something from over a year ago. It was no doubt something that she’d not given a second thought to since it had happened, and something she didn’t care to remember either, especially given how many people had died that night, or if they got lucky, ended up in the hospital. Harley remembered her from that night though; she’d been the one holding the gun on Veronica whilst she was tied up. It all but excited her to be reminded of a time when things were more simple in her life, not as batshit complicated as they’d gotten since then.

“Well…erm…yes. I think I know which gala you’re talking about…” The other woman’s hands gripped the cart, and she awkwardly smiled over at Harley as she slowly began to walk off. “Excuse me, I…I’m going to go put this back…”

When she’d gone, Bruce glanced over at Harley, an impressed look on his face.

“I didn’t take you for someone who liked fancy parties.” he remarked. “How did you remember all that?”

“I have a good memory.” Harley lied, waving her hand. “Plus, it’s hard to forget an event ya nearly died at, ya know?”

That wasn’t a lie. She had almost died at that event; one of Batman’s little punks had cornered her with a grenade and she’d barely escaped by way of a window. Not without several broken bones of course, those bones being some rib bones, her arm, and elbow, if she remembered correctly.  She’d had to spend a whole week in bed, recovering.

“I hear that.” Bruce agreed, folding his arms. “That was not a fun night, even I still remember it vividly. So many people died…it still haunts me.”

_Heh, sucker. You have no idea._

Harley bit her lip to refrain from saying this and faked a look of sorrow, nodding slowly.

“Yeah…shame, I guess. A lot of people just wanted to have fun that night.” she said. “And what’d they get instead? Explosives, in their damn goody bags, what a friggin shame…ya open the bag expecting a cupcake and instead, you get your face blown off.”

Any sullenness was replaced by yet another quizzical expression from Bruce at hearing Harley’s last words, as if a light bulb had been lit in his mind. He remembered that night almost as vividly as Harley did, how he’d assisted in making sure every civilian got out safely, aside from the unfortunate few who had been trapped inside. Nobody had ever opened those bags; the only one unlucky enough to do that had been forced by Joker to do so, and that was after most of the guests had been evacuated.

“…how did you know about that?”

“Huh?”

“The explosives. The police never said where they came from…” Bruce spoke slowly, enough for it to sink in for Harley. She felt her legs weaken, and her head fuzzed on her. _Shit, shit—now you’ve done it, you’ve said too much._

Forcing an innocent grin, Harley brushed some hair back from her face and shifted on her feet. She’d been the one who’d helped one of the henchmen load the explosives into the gift bags. That’s how she knew, that’s exactly how she knew. What kind of lie could she forge for this?

 

“I…was there, ya know? I was a guest…I saw it happen.”

“No, no you couldn’t have—half the guests were evacuated…” He stared at her very seriously, taking a small step closer to her and making it very clear he had not bought whatever she’d just told him. Harley took a step back, discomfort overtaking her confidence, as she almost backed into a clothing stand. The sheepish smile slowly wilted.

“Erm…I…” She gave her best attempt to retort, but it came off as weak, and was barely an audible mumble. “I... I dunno, the bags were kinda heavy, I only thought…”

_Stop talking now, dummy. Stop talking._

Her mouth clamped shut, twisting into a frown.

“Um…I have to go…” she said, gathering the basket into both hands.  She slipped out from between Bruce and the clothing stand she’d bumped into, as awkwardly as possible.

He didn’t make a move to stop her, but it was only when he noticed her rolled-up sleeves did he grab her arm. Her tattoo was barely peeking out from underneath it, and almost instantly, Harley defensively yanked her arm away. She glared at him, and rolled her sleeves down quickly, moving to walk away.

“Nice tattoo.” She heard him say behind her, and she glanced back one more time, still offering nothing but the same glare. The look he was giving her was none too comforting, only motivating her to quicken her pace towards the checkout line. The temptation to look back at him, to see if he was still watching her, was strong; but she didn’t want to make herself seem any more suspicious than she already had.

_One blunder isn’t going to give us away, Harley._

It could though. It very well could.

Thankfully, she was one of the only people in the checkout line, and wasted no time in purchasing all her items. She caught Bruce out of the corner of her eye as Veronica came back over with yet another suit, yet he only seemed to pay her attention for just one second. The minute Harley walked out of the store, he excused himself from Veronica and trekked to the window, looking out, as she attempted to hail a cab. Her jacket sleeve had slid back again, giving him a full viewing of her tattoo before she pulled the sleeve back down out of paranoia.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Bruce fumbled around for his cell and pulled it out, swiping through several screens before pressing something, and held the device up to his ear, listening, waiting, as it rang.

A few seconds later, the ringing stopped and a voice answered.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Dick, it’s me. Are you available right now?” Bruce offered no greeting, watching as a cab finally pulled to a stop and let Harley in. The violent spring wind was whipping her hair around every which way, yet she clutched the top of her head like her hair would fly right off, and she quickly scrambled into the cab.

There was some slight crunching on the other end of the line before the other voice responded.

“Hm—yeah. Whaddya need?”

“I need you to do a bit of spy work for me.” The cab whirred off, leaving a trail of skid marks behind. “Think you can manage that?”

“Sure, just give me a couple of minutes.  What’s going on?”

“It’s about Harley Quinn.” Bruce moved from the window. “I think I’ve found her.”

* * *

 

Harley couldn’t help but check behind her several times during the ride back to her apartment. The whole conversation with Bruce had left her a bit on edge, leaving her feeling like she’d gotten away with something.

_Yeah, that something being your own freedom. That was a bit close, don’t you think?_

No fooling.

Yes, it had been too close. Too close for her own liking; that was the last time she struck up a conversation with a random stranger, she’d gotten far too comfortable talking to him and had said way more than she should have. She resolved to spend the rest of the day hiding in her apartment and devouring whatever was left of her unfinished tub of cookie dough ice cream.

The cab stopped in front of the Blue Bell Diner, and Harley got out, carrying her bags with her. She paid the cabbie and headed inside, not before looking around again, just to make double sure. Just a bit of an overreaction, maybe, but she just wanted to make double sure. It was too close to the baby’s due date for her to be getting outed right now, let alone arrested.

Whilst she headed inside with the comfort that no one had followed her, Dick Grayson sat perched atop a nearby building, watching her as she disappeared behind the rippled glass doors. On any other cold Spring day—yes, cold—he could’ve named a million other things he’d rather be doing right now. It wasn’t like it was exactly broad daylight out; as the sky was filled with clouds and it was rather windy, but he’d still tried to position himself as discreetly as possible in hopes no one would randomly look up and spot him. Thankfully, the only things that had spotted him was a couple of bothersome birds, which he’d promptly shooed away, and he was able to survey peacefully as Harley came back into view in the apartment windows, seemingly going through her bags.

Dick watched her dubiously; and albeit, a bit doubtfully. When Bruce had told him he’d found Harley Quinn, he’d jumped at the chance to follow her and see what was going on, but the more he watched her, he was beginning to feel like this was a wild goose chase. The only indication that this might be Harley was that she’d been glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one was following her, it seemed, but even then; he still couldn’t help but wonder.

Something at his ear buzzed and he pressed the ear piece, crouching down a bit on the graveled roof as Harley glanced out the window.

“Yeah?” His hands clasped at the roof’s railing, as he watched Harley look around several times, then returned to examining her bags. “No—nah, nah she just showed up. She’s inside now.”

“Keep watching. I want you to tell me if she leaves, alright?”

“Gotcha. But hey, aren’t you starting to think this a little far-fetched?” Dick pointed out, remaining in the same crouched position just as a caution. “I mean, aside from that off-comment she made about the explosives and—and the tattoo, how do you even know it’s her?”

Silence on the other end. Something he should’ve very well expected from his mentor by now, he also should have expected it to be another minute before the man actually responded.

“…that’s just it, I _don’t_ know. But I know her.” A dark tone overtook Bruce’s voice as he spoke. “I just want to check every end possible, no precautions go unchecked. It’s a safer bet.”

“But the tattoos? Bruce, c’mon, she seriously can’t be the only person in Gotham with tats like that.” Dick stated. “Maybe the girl you talked to is just a fan or some shit.”

 “Dick, this is serious. She’s been accomplice to dozens of murders, maimed on her own accord. How would that warrant her any fans?”

“I don’t know, but lots of serial killers gain fans after they go to prison.” Dick squinted as he glanced back at the apartment window, noticing the woman scratching at her head. “All I’m saying is, it wouldn’t be too farfetched to think that’s just the case, you know?”

A heavy sigh sounded on the other end of the earpiece.

“Alright. Alright, we won’t count that one out—but just—let me know if anything happens.”

A beep sounded, signaling their conversation had come to an end.

Even now, Harley could still be seen in the hallway, this signaling some alarm in Dick’s head the longer he watched. She’d finished going through her bags already, what could she possibly be waiting for?

“What the hell, lady…” Dick muttered, continuing to watch as she tossed another several looks around the hall. When she stopped, she reached up to the top of her head, and looked as if she were about to start scratching again…but instead, pulled off a black wig. Long blonde hair came undone from  bobby pins, some strands spilling loose down her back. Dick scrambled to get a closer look, lifting up a pair of binoculars, as Harley started scratching irritably at her head for the hundredth time.

Some of those blonde strands…he could’ve sworn the end tips were a faded blue and pink. Again, like he had said to Bruce, she could’ve just been a fan…it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’d heard of.

But the pieces were oddly enough starting to add up. Her paranoid behavior; her knowledge about the placement of the explosives, her tattoos, how eager Bruce said she’d seemed to leave and how quickly she’d hidden the tattoo after he spotted it; now the hair? And the fact she’d be wearing a wig? Fans never wore wigs—they wore their fan status like a badge, they’d never hide it.

_What the hell was going on?_

* * *

 

In the hallway, Harley had been about to head inside her apartment when the wig had decided now would be a perfect time to start irritating her again. In any other case, she’d have waited ‘til she got inside to rip it off, but damn—she’d had to put up with this crap for nine months, she’d really wished she’d taken Ivy’s advice and dyed her own hair instead.

Fortunately, most of her neighbors were at work and school at this time of the day, so she’d seized her chance and ripped the wig off, scratching at her head in almost pure ecstasy. This wasn’t without some strands of her own hair coming loose, but that was something that could be dealt with later, for sure, that wasn’t what mattered. That wig was a damn atrocity and every minute wearing it was one she’d sooner be getting a toe nail ripped off. Even that was beginning to seem more appealing than having to wear this thing for one more second.

“Why’d you take your hair off?”

A small voice made her freeze in place, her hands still caught mid-scratch. She let them fall to her sides and whirled around, seeing Teddy sitting in the hallway, a toy car in his hands. Red flushed over her cheeks and moved to placing the wig back on her head, despite every part of her not wanting to.

“I—erm, well it’s not my actual hair, kiddo—“ she explained, struggling to adjust the flimsy material back into place. “I just don’t want people seein’ my real hair, ya know?”

“How come? I thought it looked pretty.” Teddy stood up, setting down his toy car. “I’ve never seen blue in people’s hair before.”

“What about pink? Ya seen that before?”

“Only on clothes.”

“Hm. Well, guess I’m your first then.” Harley smiled, scooping up her bags from where she’d dropped them in her fit of ripping the wig off. She looked past Teddy, it dawning on her that it was deathly quiet in this hallway; again, many of the neighbors weren’t home. Mrs. Peterson was the one exception, but she was probably distracted by her daily viewing of I Love Lucy reruns.

“Um…how come you ain’t at school?” she asked, just out of curiosity, as her gaze went back to the small boy. “Don’t tell me your parents care that little about you.”

As always, Teddy shrugged.

“I dunno. They’re never around to care what I do.”

_Oh boy, here we go again._

“What shits…” Harley muttered to herself, low enough to where Teddy couldn’t hear her. The boy had never been fond of her tendency to let curse words slip, and had not seemed to notice this time. He instead spun the wheel on his toy car, and Harley moved towards him, shifting her bags onto one arm.

“Hey…just where are your folks? You never told me what they do for a livin’.” she said, Teddy looking up. Another shrug.

“My dad’s never home, I don’t know what he does.”

“Oh. Well, how about your momma, then?” Not that she really cared; but she had a few choice words for that woman. Harley might’ve been someone who slept easily at night after committing horrible crimes and assisting in mass genocide, but knowing a kid had bad parents? Hell no, that was something she just couldn’t rest easy with the idea of.

This time, Teddy didn’t shrug. _That was a first._

Instead, he just looked thoughtful, thinking to himself momentarily.  He stopped playing with his toy car, setting it on one of the random end tables that the landlady had put up in the halls.

“She…she’s here. She doesn’t do much…” he spoke quietly. “But she’s around, I know she is.”

Harley’s face furled in confusion. She looked around, and back to Teddy again.

“…That doesn’t make any sense, kid.” she said. “Which is it? Is she around or ain’t she?”

“You must be really dumb if you can’t figure it out.”  Teddy pushed his car on the table, sending it sailing off the end. It clanked onto the wood. His remark earned an offended gasp from Harley, and it was taking everything in her to not just sass this kid; but she instead just gave him a slow nod.

“Oookay….yeah. Sure, I’m dumb, and you don’t make any sense.” She walked to her apartment door and took the key out from her purse. “We’re both at fault here so don’t go singling me out—“

The door unlocked and opened, and she stopped talking. Her eyes went to the table where Teddy had been, and wouldn’t you know it—the little shit was gone again. Rolling her eyes with a groan, Harley decided against trying to figure out where he went to and walked inside to the living room, shutting the door behind her.

Her jacket hit a chair, and she sat several of her bags down on the floor, walking into the kitchen where she noticed the red button on her answering machine was going off. Pressing it, a message began to play as she went to the fridge to pour herself a glass of water.

_“Hey Lena, this is Dr. Hoffman. Your nine-month checkup is tomorrow, just wanted to call and remind you. See you at 9:30, tomorrow! Bye!”_

**_Beep._ **

The message ended, and Harley pressed the button to delete it. She then moved back to the living room, sipping at her water. She picked up one of the bags and sat down on the couch, relieved to finally be off her feet. Her nine-month checkup was tomorrow, huh…so weird to think about, that she was at this stage. Four months passing had been odd enough, but a full nine? She’d never expected she’d make it this far on her own; it was almost something to celebrate on its own.

It didn’t mean she was out of the woods yet though, once the baby was born, it was only going to get rougher. There was still the inevitability of her having to find a job; and then, the big decision, the one decision she’d been tampering with the closer her due date got.

Would she dare take a risk, and try going back to her Mister J?

Yeah, maybe she’d tried to push him out of her mind the best she could as time went on, but now that was she was out of the bustle of the public, and alone…the thoughts came back. Part of her felt extremely guilty about having avoided any mention of him or anything to do with him lately; especially when she watched the news, seeing his work. Normally she’d be downright proud of him, but seeing how much he was clearly derailing without her around, it just made her sad.

 _Surely,_ she’d told herself, _nine months would be enough time for him to come around._ After all, it’d only been a couple of weeks after he’d kicked her out had they last met…too short an amount of time for his mind to settle on a subject this heavy.

Alas, she’d been wrong. He’d seemed to have made no moves in seeking her out; and any chances of that now were as good as dead. She knew better than anybody that her puddin’ was a stubborn ass, and he’d be damned if he made the first move a second time. Once was apparently good enough for him.

She’d finished downing her water, and sighed, moving to pick herself up from the couch. It was not so much an easy task now, and she found herself having to grab onto the armrests for support, wincing a bit as the baby delivered a swift kick to her ribcage.

“Go easy on me, will ya peewee? I promise I’ll sit back down in a sec, okay?” Her hand rubbed at her midsection, that plus her words being enough to quell the baby for the time being. Sighing, she padded into the kitchen, tossing the glass into the sink. She moved to picking her bags up, and started moving them to the living room, only to be subjected to yet another sharp pain in her lower section.

“Can the karate kicks, princess, I told ya I was gonna sit down, didn’t I?” she complained, and moved forward to the next room, unfortunately having to stop again due to another sharp pain. Her hands spasmed, dropping the bags on the ground, and she gasped out loud, pressing a hand against her stomach, tightly.

“C—calm down there, kid…please…” She all but begged, and this seemed to work. She realized that that pain jab had more than likely not been the baby kicking; no, it’d felt far worse than that to just be a kick. Her little princess already had some powerful legs, but surely they couldn’t be that powerful, could they? It was probably just some Braxton Hicks now that she thought about it, Dr. Hoffman warned her she might start experiencing these the closer the time came for the baby to be born. 

She waited as the pain subsided enough for her to take a step forward, then something that felt like a knife rippled through her entire midsection, sending her down on both knees. A cold sweat broke out on her skin, and her hands all but looked like claws as they dug into her shirt, as if that would stop the sudden barrage of cramping she felt.

_Braxton Hicks couldn’t hurt this much, could they? She’d read the book—they were supposed to be like really bad period cramps—_

Another wave hit her and she screamed, her form miserably scrunching onto the floor. Panting, Harley felt her heartbeat quicken as something wet pooled underneath her.

_Shit—shit wait, what’s happening? It can’t be labor—it can’t—it’s too early, isn’t it?_

Her hands, although violently tremoring, slowly moved down…down, until she felt what at first, she’d thought been some other bodily fluid…but was horrified as she pulled them back to find blood.

She only stared, only able to emit tiny whimpers, gasps. Another wave of pain hit her and she screamed loudly, falling onto her back. Pathetically, she curled up, crying softly in pain, in fear.

_What’s going on—what’s going on—what’s going on—_

Footsteps sounded outside her door. In desperation, she started pulling herself towards the door, trying, grasping—reaching at the doorknob, only being able to crack the door open just a tad. It creaked, her hand slipping from the knob. The footsteps sounded again, and Harley felt her head start to go light. Through her vision, which was now going incredibly blurry—she could’ve sworn she saw Teddy’s sneakers walking around in the hall.

So she cried out.

“Teddy---! Teddy, oh god! G—ge—get help!” she managed to cry out in between whimpers of pain, watching as the boy’s feet stopped moving. He walked towards her, the door slowly opening. She looked up at him, stiffening as she realized he was only staring down at her. Not moving to help…not moving to get help, even.

“Jesus—christ! Chri---christ, Teddy! Help me!” she pleaded, her voice waning almost half as much as her strength was. But he still didn’t move. The little boy only continued staring down at her, Harley making out an…oddly cold look in his eyes before she gave up, letting her head hit the floor. Her body slightly convulsed on the ground as she slowly passed out, her unable to hear Mrs. Peterson’s door opening from across the hall, followed by the frightened calls of the older lady as she spotted the young woman’s crumpled form bleeding out on the ground.


	14. Chapter 14

It was as quiet as it could possibly be in the Joker’s penthouse. The wind sounded hollow outside, the sky dim, the room dim, even, as only one lamp was turned on in the entire bedroom. It appeared to be much darker in the large room, however, mainly since someone had left the curtains drawn. If you hadn’t just come in from the outside, you’d have thought it was nighttime. But, upon turning the lights on, you’d instantly wish it to be dark again once you saw the state of the room.

To put it shortly, it was a mess. Well, to be fair, Harley’s side of the room still looked entirely intact, save for a few strewn articles of clothing on the floor. The Joker’s side was an entirely different story, on the other hand; broken, empty bottles of alcohol were on the floor, alongside several empty pill bottles. Torn clothes and surprisingly, several sharp weapons littered the carpet, making it a dangerous trek to the bed.

The bed was no exception to this mess; the covers were filthy, and wrinkled. The pillows looked like they’d be ripped open with a knife, and said-knife had also seemed to pay a visit to the headboard, what with the scribbled in HAHAs and little childish doodles that were hard to make out. In the faint lamplight, the knife’s blade could be seen still embedded in the board, as the Joker lay underneath it, mindlessly twisting the blade back and forth to carve yet another stick figure into the wood. His face seemed vacant of anything depictable, save for the glazed over look in his eyes. 

His entire appearance was rather disheveled to say the least; he wore nothing but a pair of purple sweatpants, his feet and chest entirely bare and freezing, no thanks to the air vent overhead. His hair looked like it hadn’t been combed or brushed in a very long time, and the dark circles under his eyes had developed into a pair of heavy bags. This had been his routine appearance since the night he came back from his talk with Harley, none of the men had dared speak up in concern about their boss, though Frost had looked like he wanted to say _something._ Every time, he’d give the man a warning look, and proceed to lock himself in the bedroom for almost the entire day.

He only made tiny humming noises as he continued carving away at the wood, these noises discernible enough to made out as some kind of nursery rhyme.  Some words escaped every now and then, but not enough to determine what nursery rhyme it was, exactly.

_Scratch…scratch…_

The blade dug deeper into the wood, being dragged in a downwards spiral. An insane zigzag pattern blossomed across the headboard, all but overtaking any of the other previous illustrations and words.

_Clunk._

He brought the blade to a stop. It’d gotten caught on something.

Grunting, he pulled it out, bringing the knife to rest on his chest, all while still in his hand. One finger began to stroke the blade, as his mind wandered. It had been wandering; all day, all week, every single month since Harley had left.  Five months later and he still wondered why he thought that whole ordeal would’ve turned out okay. To say these months had been fun for him would be a complete and utter lie. It was common sense and clear enough to know that he had been, and still was, falling apart.  

It was not something he would admit, say, or even allow himself to consider the idea of; he didn’t like the idea of being so dependent, so despondent…he was above other men, he couldn’t allow himself to be weakened just because the one thing that kept any solidarity intact was gone from his life. Yet he was weakened anyways, as if someone had stolen a vital organ from his body, like that was the very thing that was draining him.

He thought it would get better after they had met. After they had a chance to talk, to sort things out…he had fully intended on not driving home alone that night. Yet, he did anyways. He was the only one to enter the lambo, the only one to get out, the only one to sleep in the same room that night, and the next night, and the night after that…

Not that he’d done any actual sleeping.

Some nights he was lucky to even get three hours of sleep, but in each day, in each month, that had passed, he found himself more reliant on caffeine and pills, more than anything, to keep himself going. The nightmares…the…the memories, maybe…if they even were, had only gotten worse as each month had passed. Every night he’d close his eyes, and some foreign event would replay in his mind; some nights he’d see the little boy again, the teenager, the young man…the young woman, the stabbed woman, the nice older couple…some doctors…

So many puzzle pieces and yet none of them fit. It was troubling.

This was precisely why he couldn’t sleep. It felt like an overload of data in his mind, an overload that he just didn’t want to deal with right now. He ignored it like they had gone away, but they hadn’t. They persisted, came back every night, and progressively just got more and more confusing. It was around the seventh month that he began his schedule of only sleeping for about an hour, before getting up and pacing around the room for two hours, and then wandering off to another room to do God knows what for another four hours until the sun came up.

Obviously, this was not a healthy cycle, but since when had he ever been the exact picture of health? Physical health maybe, but mental health? Never, not ever. This shouldn’t be any different from any behavior he’d exhibited before, thought it bothered some of the henchmen to see their boss like this. It also bothered them how hectic things had been around the club lately; and in Gotham, in general.

None of them had gotten a single break for the entire nine months; the Joker had been running them ragged with several heists, bombings, attacks on the street…it was starting to get old. Ordinarily, he’d just set these attacks apart…careful planning would be involved. It wasn’t like him to just up and randomly causing chaos without a master plan. The henchmen had reached the point where they almost debated drawing straws to see who would dare to knock on the door and try talking to him.

But every time they even came close to the door, they’d hear his off-tune singing and humming, his insane ramblings, and they’d back off. You’d think after so many years of working for the clown prince of crime, they’d be used to this shit…but the last time he’d acted this bad off was when Harley had been locked away in prison. This situation was proving to be more far complex, and far more taxing on the man’s mind.

The truth was, the rigorous sleep schedule, the random attacks, the alcohol, the pills…it was all just a distraction. He’d tried, oh god, had he tried to convince himself he didn’t need her…but as time ticked on…the universe just continued to tell him otherwise. Nightmares…the memories…would go on and on, and on the rare nights he actually slept on…if, if the other memories didn’t bother him, anything and everything pertaining to Harley would play on.

It was…confusing. The supposed memories had started out as hallucinations, but had transitioned over to nightmares; anything Harley related had developed into both hallucinations and nightmares at the very time. By god, he didn’t know how that worked and he wasn’t about to figure that out, nor did he have the current mental strength to do so, it was already tiring enough trying to fight off any of the nightmares, any of the usual voices that enjoyed taunting him. 

He’d learned to live with those voices a long time ago. He taught this to Harley when she’d first started hearing voices, had been the one to ask, when he was still her patient, if she ever heard any voices. She hadn’t admitted it then, but not a day after her chemical plunge, he’d walked into the bedroom to find her seemingly arguing with herself. She’d even stood up and tossed a lamp across the room, screaming at someone—he didn’t know who, to be quiet.

He hadn’t said a word, just watching on in silence, as her tantrum continued. When she’d finally calmed down enough, she’d turned to look at him, a little stunned, a little surprised that he was there…and then, she’d just broken-down crying.

_“I just wanted them to stop…I di—didn’t mean to break anything, puddin’, please…”_

She’d been more upset over the lamp, of course she was.

It was a fond memory the more he thought about it; after finally getting her to stop apologizing because goodness knows he couldn’t stand a repetitive apologizer, he’d sat her down on the couch, holding both of her hands in his, and just…talked to her. For the first time in his life, he had been genuine with her; asking what the voices had been saying, who they sounded like, who they could be…

It was almost, for a moment, as if they were a normal couple.

She’d told him; it was her own voice taunting her, not just her own voice…but a voice of reason, a more sensible voice, from a version of her far more cautious and sensible.

_Harleen…of course it had been Harleen._

_“Harls…do you know what I did? When I first started hearing the voices?”_

_She’d shaken her head._

_“I screamed. I broke things, I got angry…” His fingers traced over hers, as he spoke. “I still do. I always will; that’s just something you can’t change, a…a part of you that you can’t rid yourself of.”_

_“But I want them gone.”_

_“Oh…no, no, baby…” He’d grinned, moving his hands to her tear-stained face, cupping it gently. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing you can do about it. You just have to accept that they’re always gonna be there...”_

_She’d hiccupped, sucking back a snot bubble that was trying to leak from her nostril._

_“…but, but…they’re so mean, puddin’…” she’d sobbed, quietly, pathetically, and he pressed his hands even tighter against her face, his thumbs brushing aside any tears and smeared makeup._

_“I know, pumpkin…but you’re just gonna have to live with them.” At this, he opened his arms up entirely, allowing Harley to fall against his chest as she started to cry again, all but staining his shirt. But they’d stayed here, him holding her, stroking her hair…repeating the same words._

_“Just live with them, Harley, you don’t have to like them.”_

And boy, did he not like his own voices. Especially now, especially since they’d gotten so pesky as of late. This would be a grand time to listen to his own advice, but his mind did not see fit to reason right now. No real reason, no real logic, anyways.

Without thinking, he’d pressed the blade into the palm of his hand. Not enough to draw blood, but just enough to cause slight pain. His upper and lower jaw grinded tediously against one another, his mind swimming, flooding. It had even started to hurt, just by thinking…the pills had not just been for sleep related issues, it’d been for these headaches that he didn’t even think to register as faux…

A little prick from the knife brought his focus to surface and he yelped, pulling it back from his mind to find a tiny trickle of blood running down his palm. Cursing under his breath, he sat up and rubbed the blood off onto the sheets.

 “Really, Mistah J? Band-aids were existed for a reason, ya know.”

His fist gathered the sheet, crumpling the portion he held into a tight wad. Red stained the white, an ugly blotch forming the longer he held on to it. His head stayed lowered, his gaze away from where he swore the voice was coming from.

“Aw geez. Okay, so you get to do that but I can’t eat a hot dog there? Not cool.”

He shut his eyes, releasing the sheet as he slowly laid back down.

“You…shut up, you’re not here…”

“You’re right, I’m not. You made damn sure I wouldn’t be.”

Rolling to his side, he gripped the knife in his hand, keeping both eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at me, puddin’.”

“I can’t.”

“And why not?” The voice persisted, starting to sound as if it were getting closer. “You miss me, don’t you? You know I can make the nightmares stop…”

A cold hand touched his shoulder, and his eyes opened. The knife was now pointed towards Harley, her hair loose from their pigtails and rippling down her back in soft waves of blue and pink. She wore the same sundress that the woman in the nightmares was wearing, and a visible baby bump protruded from underneath it.

His found his own hands shaking as he bolted up, pressing the blade to her throat. No pressure, no sight of blood. It passed through her like she was made of air, which to be fair, she probably was. As if she had read his mind, the Harley-hallucination smiled and sat down on the bed, flicking the knife from his hand.

“Silly, puddin’. Can’t hurt what ain’t real…” she mused, as the knife hit the mattress. He swallowed hard, staring, and quickly shook himself, spinning himself around to face the headboard in the same mannerism that a small child would avoid facing their parent when they were in trouble.

“Go away.” he muttered. “Why are you even here?”

“Because you let yourself think again.” He shuddered at feeling her fingers brush through his hair, though in reality it was the air vent blowing it around. Out of impulse, he ducked his head out of the way, resting it against his knees as he brought them to his chest, curling up in a sad lump, right there on the bed. But the Harley-hallucination only moved closer, now wrapping her cold arms around him. He resisted, attempting to break free.

“For the love of…go away, will you please go the fuck away…” His voice cracked, almost out of desperation. It was pathetic that someone like him would even sound or act desperate, but this was just terribly unfair. He couldn’t say he’d rather have the faux memories over the Harley-hallucinations, as those were every bit as torturous, but at least with those he never saw her. Never had to hear _her_ voice taunting him.

“I did, nine months ago, Mistah J…remember?”

“You know what I mean. Get out of my head.” His face was all but concealed within the confines of his knees now, trying so hard to block out the Harley behind him. Her arms fell loose from his rigid body and he heard her sigh.

“Why can’t you just accept it, sweetie…you’re going to be a daddy. What’s so bad about that?”

He shifted, his hand starting to bleed again.

“I don’t know…”

“I think you do.”

His form uncrumpled at this, his hands slamming hard against the soft mattress. Another blood stain pooled underneath his injured hand.

“I don’t— _I don’t fucking know!_ What more do you want from me? What else do you want me to say?” He spun himself around, facing the fake Harley as she stared blankly at him. “I can’t place it—and I’ve told you why! It just wouldn’t work!”

_That was a crap excuse. Batman had brats of his own, why should this be any different?_

Not to say this thought hadn’t plagued his mind, but he couldn’t think of any other reason as to why he couldn’t possibly accept having a child. Unless he was afraid….which he was certain he wasn’t.

The fake Harley cracked a weak smile at his words.

“Oh…honey…don’t lie to yourself. You and I both know that’s bullshit.”

She reached over, taking his bleeding hand, and pressed it against her stomach. He didn’t resist, though he didn’t know why. Somehow this act felt familiar to him, like…like he’d done this before.

A steady, rhythmic kick thudded against his palm. More blood trickled from his cut.

His eyes slightly widened.

Another kick.

Fake-Harley giggled, taking his hand away and squeezing it tightly.

“Just think...she’ll be here anytime now. It won’t be much longer…”

_It won’t be much longer…_

Suddenly, right before his eyes, Harley’s facial features began to shift and twist. Her hair became shorter, and tied into a ponytail that trailed down her shoulder, the blue and pink gone, the blonde gone…in its place, brown. Her pale skin darkened slightly, and freckles appeared on her face, a soft, gentle face, that stared right back at his shocked, confused expression. She didn’t smile, she didn’t frown…but her eyes…there was something so familiar about the quiet gleam in them.

Slowly, she opened her lips, but nothing came out. That’s when the smile appeared, a sad one albeit, and she let go of his hand, quickly bringing her own hand to touch his face. It wasn’t as cold a touch as Harley’s, instead it felt oddly warmer. As if she’d been holding it in, a tiny gasp escaped and she brought both hands to his face, holding it carefully and looking at it, intently. The Joker could’ve protested, in fact he very much wanted to; he wanted to pull away and hide in that same sad crumple again, yet…again, this was feeling very familiar to him.

“Jack…” Her voice, sweet and pretty, and almost identical to a songbird’s, caused his dazed glance to shift back towards her.

_Jack…Ja…_

_Who was that?_

“I don’t…that’s not…” He faltered, being cut off as the woman began shushing him. His entire body felt as though it would collapse at any second, like he was suddenly made of clay and would fall apart without someone’s support. His arms, his legs, everything felt weak the longer he allowed himself to be held in this woman’s embrace. Why hadn’t he shoved her off, yet…why…

“My Jack…my husband…the man I love, you know me. You know me, Jack. Don’t deny it.”

_He did, he did know her. She’d been the woman in his nightmares, but he was never able to place her! What the hell was going on?!_

“I…I don’t…I don’t know...you _…_ ” 

_More like he didn’t want to remember her._

The more he stared at her face, the more the dreams he’d pushed to the back of his mind came surging back. So many of them were happy ones, with her and the young man so very much in love, following them as they set up their nursery, as they went shopping. Though, as he went through all these nightmares, an ache began forming in his chest. Like, the further he went…the worse they seemed to get.

_He saw fights. Loud, ugly fights._

_He saw the young man in the hospital, pleading with the doctors._

He cut his own thoughts off, looking straight back up at the lovely woman.

“No…no, I can’t. I can’t remember you, I don’t…. I don’t want to know what happens.”

A rather…sad smile overtook the woman’s gentle face, and she folded her hands into her lap, leaving the Joker to scramble in an attempt to keep himself from falling over.

“Jack…foolish Jack. Always so stubborn.” She shook her head, her tone growing much darker than before. “Stop fighting the memories, Jack. Let them come back.”

“What!? No---no, no, I can’t! I won’t! They aren’t who I am anymore, they don’t mean anything to me!”

“If they didn’t, you wouldn’t be fighting them, Jack…”

“Stop that! Stop calling me that!” He all but screamed, turning himself away from the woman, and childishly threw a torn pillow over his head. _Yeah, like that was going to make her go away._ _Fuck that, he’d rather have Harley back over this bitch, whoever she was._

“Stop fighting them, Jack…everything will become so clear if you stop…”

Mumbling something incoherent, he ignored her, fumbling one hand around beneath the mattress.

“You have to remember, Jack. It’s the only way you’ll get her back.”

His fingers met with the cold metal of his gun and he pulled it free from the mattress, tightening his hold on the trigger as he sat back up, yelling out as he fired off several rounds of bullets straight through the woman, which in turn riddled the wall with bullet holes. His hearing was filled with the sounds of gunshots but it was enough; enough to deafen everything else that was in the room with him.

One stray bullet bounced off the wall, smacking straight into the lock of the door. The lock fell loose, causing the door to creak open. The Joker released another round of bullets into the door, narrowly missing Frost as the other man attempted to enter. He dodged the last round and tried to shut the door behind him, but after several failed attempts, gave up and let the damaged door hang open while he padded over to the Joker, who by now, had dropped the gun and was sitting on the edge of the bed in a dead stupor.

“Boss, what the hell is happening in here? I heard the gunshots…” He stopped, noticing the blood on the sheets, followed by the scribbles on the headboard of the bed. This was the first time he’d stepped foot in Joker’s room in almost an entire month, to put it short, he wasn’t entirely shocked at the state of the place, nor the state of his boss, but it was still awfully depressing to look at. At least he’d seemed somewhat put together during the days Harley was in Belle Reve, but this? It was just a sorry sight, a downright upsetting one.

The Joker hadn’t even seemed to notice Frost, still lost in the same dead stupor as his eyes drifted around the room. It wasn’t until they made their way made over to the entrance did he see the other man, but even then, he made no visible or audible reaction. He just squinted, looking almost drunk.

“Huh?”

“The…gunshots?” Frost spoke slowly, taking careful steps over the knives and guns placed on the ground. “I could hear ‘em all the way from downstairs. Are you okay or…”

His boss blinked again, several times. His form swayed slightly on the bed, as he grabbed aimlessly at the nightstand to help himself up.

“I’m…fine…” He trailed off, surprisingly stumbling over his own feet instead of one of the various weapons or broken bottles on the ground, as he made his way across the room to his dresser. “Just…need to…”

His hand missed the handle of the dresser drawer several times before actually grabbing it, and he pulled it open, throwing out any items still lucky enough to be inside it. Frost stayed back, only moving a little ways closer to the bed. He watched as the Joker pulled out yet another pill bottle and twisted off the cap, shaking the half-empty container until several white pills fell out. Unfortunately, his hand was trembling so much the pills fell out, onto the dirty floor.

Grunting, he dropped the container back into the dresser and scanned the floor, dropping to his knees as his hands started grabbing at each object there, as if somehow that would help him find the pills he’d dropped. Unable to watch his ill mannerisms any longer, Frost sighed, moving from his spot at the bed. He stooped next to his boss and picked up where the pills had dropped onto a broken switchblade.

The Joker stopped his fumbling and gasped, grabbing at the pills desperately like a greedy child, and stuffed them into his mouth, not giving Frost a chance to say anything. He jumped back to his feet, like somehow having been reinvigorated by the capsules, and picked up the bottle of whiskey he’d been nursing earlier that morning. Popping the cap off, he didn’t even bother pouring the remainder into the shot glass and instead went right at the beverage like his life depended on it.

Of course, the bitter taste was cut off abruptly as Frost came up and tried to pry the bottle from his hands.

“Boss, you shouldn’t—“ he attempted saying, but was shoved back by Joker, only receiving a middle finger from his boss as he went right back to consuming the rest of his drink. He lost his balance, all but falling onto the bed as the man finished off the bottle, slowly looking back at him. He gave him a curt stare, silently, proceeding to smash the glass bottle against the night dresser, all but startling Frost.

“The hell, Mister J— “

“Shut up, Johnny, I’ve had quite enough shit for one day.” Christ, his voice sounded hoarse. The Joker brushed aside the broken glass pieces and looked at the bullet-ridden door, realization coming over him. Huh, maybe the alcohol really had brought him back to his senses.

“Fuck’s sake, don’t tell me I did that.”

“You did, boss. That’s the whole reason I came in here…” Frost almost wanted to facepalm, would have if he hadn’t worked for the Joker for almost ten years now. “I heard the gunshots…just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How sweet of you.” _Just being a bit teensy bit sarcastic, aren’t you?_ “Well as you can see, I’m doing fantastically splendid. Does that satisfy you?”

“Not really, not when I’m seeing the exact opposite.” Frost stood up, as the Joker stumbled around the room, narrowly missing cutting his open on one of the knives. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you shoutin’, either, Mister J. I heard everything. Just what the hell—or, who the hell, were you even talking to?”

“Who do you think?” The Joker grabbed onto a chair at feeling his legs give way. “Either way, it’s none of your damn business, I said I’m fine. Isn’t that the answer you wanted?”

“Not exactly…”

“Well then what answer do you want?  Because I did good enough giving you the sugarcoated one.” He snapped, spinning around and still leaning against the chair. “Do you really want the brutally honest one? The one where I admit I’m completely miserable, that—that my brain’s rotting or some crap? Do tell me, Johnny, I’m just dying to find out!”

At this, he spread his hands out and cackled, not before almost hitting the ground. Frost ran over just in time to grab onto him, Joker apparently still cackling. How he was finding this funny, and how Frost still had strength to deal with this, was beyond him, but he managed to seat the man’s shaking body into the chair just as his cackling finally ceased. Almost miserable did Joker look, the small cackles that remained sounded wretched, as he fell back in the chair, running his hands over his face.

“Oh…. god…” His hands slipped, falling to his sides almost ragdoll-like. “No…no, I’m fucked, Johnny. I’m all fucked. I can’t think anymore—can’t focus on a damn thing—and you know what the worst part is?”

Frost only shook his head.

“The worst part…is that I know why I’m like this. But there ain’t a damn thing I can do to make any of it go away. I’ve tried everything…but look at me.”

He vaguely gestured to all of himself, remaining in the same slumped position.

“I doubt I could even tie my shoe laces….” His hands moved up to his head, gathering up handfuls of his green hair. “Christ this is just…I don’t like this. Tell me Johnny, why does it hurt so much?”

So, we were asking the deep questions today, huh? This was why Frost was a man of so little words; he never had the right answers to these kind of questions, was never one for small talk. He did good enough with the conversations he had with his boss, the ones he had with his own wife. How was he supposed to respond to a question like this, it would require so much thinking, so much effort. Neither of which he could manage right now.

“I…wish I had the answer, J.”

“Don’t we all…” He let go of his hair, flattening his lips together in thought. The dullness on his face softened and he sat up. “You know what?  I think I need to get out, I’ve been cooped in this darn room too long. Bring the car around, will ya?”

“Of course, sir.” Frost moved to leave, Joker pushing himself out of the chair. He moved to grabbing a shirt that was hanging on bed railing, throwing it on, but not without struggle.

“Oh yeah, and uh—“ He slipped his arms through the sleeves, his right-hand man stopping as he neared the door. “Tell the boys to get ready. I need to get my mind off…whatever shit went on in here.”

Having successfully gotten his arms through the sleeves, the Joker proceeded to buttoning up the lower half of his shirt, but stopped halfway at seeing Frost still in the room. He’d turned around, and was just standing there, not seeming like he was going to move anytime soon. Scowling, Joker stopped buttoning his shirt and eyed him, moving to retrieve a cleaner pair of pants from his dresser.

“Did I stutter? Go get the rest of the boys.”

“I…I can’t, J…”

“And why ever not? I don’t care if it’s poker night; we’re going out, I said so.” Without a care, Joker slipped off the sweatpants and changed into a wrinkled pair of black slacks. “I am not, and will not, repeat myself again.”

“That ain’t it, J. I can’t get the boys because they aren’t here.”

Joker stopped, mid-throwing a belt on. He all but glared towards Frost.

“Aren’t…here?” The other man nodded, solemnly. “And…just who gave them permission to leave? I sincerely doubt it was me since…I was in here all day…”

Frost swallowed hard, clearing his throat.

“I let them leave, boss. They’re all at home, I figured they could use a day off.” The Joker was coming over now, a death glare overcoming his face. “You’ve been running ‘em so ragged lately, I just…I don’t know.”

“That’s awful nice of you, Johnny, but you’re forgetting one little thing.” He’d come too close now, uncomfortably close, and was all but seething. He jabbed his finger into Frost’s should, twisting it with spite.  “You…are not in charge in here…”

He made a motion back to himself.

“…I am. _I…_ I am the one in charge, and you know what I say? I say you call all of the men, so they can get their sorry asses back over here.”

“Can’t do that, J. It wouldn’t be fair.” Goodness was he stepping over the line, but he was already too far in to back out. Too many strikes did he have with the Joker by now, but he wasn’t about to call any of the other henchmen back here, not when they were no doubt spending time with their families.

“And why? Why wouldn’t it be fair?”

“Because none of those men have had a moment’s peace since Harley left.” Frost chose to be direct with his words, not too shocked that his voice had overtaken an angry tone. Even Joker seemed to back up a bit, as Frost frowned at him. “You’ve had ‘em over here at every waking second just ‘cause you felt like causing issues. They’ve had to work overtime at the club, keeping the other rogues at bay all because you can’t be bothered to leave your room half the time, and when you do, it’s just to stir up trouble!”

“That’s never been an issue before, Johnny, I don’t get why you’re complaining now.” Joker waved him off, walking off to grab a suit jacket from the closet. “Batman’s expecting a run for his money, I can’t go soft on him, can’t I?”

“That is not the issue here, boss! Half the boys—they have family! They haven’t had any time to spend with them!” Frost trailed after Joker while he shrugged on the jacket, him barely paying Frost any mind. “I mean, Christ, you know I ain’t a strong family man, but Sam’s wife just had their baby! I think he was entitled to a bit of time off.”

“None of you idiots are entitled to anything, you should just be lucky I haven’t killed any of you yet.” The Joker pointed out, slamming the closet door shut. “It doesn’t matter; they can have their fun, it can just be me and you today.”

He moved to finding his gun, but was stopped as Frost stepped in front of him. A little astounded, Joker gave a half-chuckle, moved to step forward again, only to be stopped a second time. Another chuckle; though, it sounded far more like a warning.

“Aha…Johnny, I believe you’re in my way…”

“I am, J.” Frost looked back at him, silently. “Don’t count on me moving though, because if you want to go out tonight, you’re going alone. I’m not doing this anymore.”

Joker’s eyes twitched. He shook both his hands, shifting his position. Cracking a little mean grin, he cocked his head at Frost.

“I’m sorry I—I don’t think I heard you there. What, exactly are you not doing anymore?”

His henchman sullenly straightened his stance. The frown on his face transitioned into a scowl.

“None of this shit, whatever it is. I’ve stood by idly enough for the past nine months, Mister J, but I’ve had enough of that.” _What are you doing, you’re going to get yourself killed talking like this!_ “I’ve been watchin’ you run yourself into the ground, even worse than when Ms. Quinn was in prison; this is, without a doubt, the worst I’ve ever seen you, and I can’t keep pretending anymore. You’re sick, and you ain’t getting any better!”

“Not the first time I’ve had that said to me…” Joker reminded him in a sing-song voice as he backed up, noting that one of his favorite guns was on the ground. He knelt to scoop it up while Frost curled his fists.

“No, this is worse than you usually act. You never drink this much, you never take meds that much. You aren’t sleeping, you aren’t eating—and you haven’t showered in over a week now!” Joker held the gun in his hands, all while Frost continued ranting. “The boys are getting downright afraid to even come near you—like, the last time? When Harry asked you something about our next attack, you almost shot him in the fuckin’ head! What’s going on, J?!”

“You know what’s going on, I shouldn’t have to explain myself.” Ignoring him, Joker loaded his gun with some spare bullets he’d forgotten he’d even left in his jacket. “What happened, happened. I’m—I guess you can say, I’m living with it.”

“Nah-uh, no you aren’t. Not like this.” Frost gestured to the entire room, then back to Joker. “This place is a pigsty; and you? You need sleep, you can’t keep going on like this!”

The Joker harshly laughed, clicking his gun.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not tired.”

“Bullshit! You haven’t slept for three nights in a row; don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Frost moved quickly as his boss started to walk away, grabbing him by the shoulder. Hissing, Joker shrugged him off and started moving towards the door again.

“J, I’m tellin’ you—this isn’t good for you! Admit it, you need Harley back.”

Joker’s heavy footsteps stopped. Only his left eye twitched this time, his shoulders, entire form hardening. It was only a second before he’d turned his gun over on Frost, a furious rage overtaking him. He’d never taken the other man for a man of many words, and while it’d been entertaining for a while just listening to him rant; this was just going too far.

“Don’t you fucking dare say her name again, don’t you fucking breathe it!” he fumed, shaking the weapon all while his hands began trembling. “I don’t need her, I never needed her! She was just a—just a nuisance in my life! A pest! It’s her fault I feel this way, she—she infected me—I would’ve never been like this before— “

He kept shaking the gun, violently, until it fell from his hands. His voice cracking up, he let out a pained laugh, slowly sinking to his knees. He sounded so much in pain, in fact, that it was almost unnatural, even for him. Frost could only recall one other time he’d sounded so ill, and yes, it had been during the Belle Reve days. It didn’t make his heart ache, as he wasn’t an easily moved man, but it made him ill to see the Joker so…low.

“…oh…fuck…fuck, I can’t, Johnny. I can’t do this. You’re right. What was I thinking?” He all but sounded like a strangled cat, choking out his laughs, as he hit the floor. “She’s been out there, a nice open target for those bitches at Arkham—God forbid, Belle Reve, to find. And I let her! All because…all because of what? Because she wanted to have the kid?”

Frost said nothing, only silently standing near Joker as the green haired man stopped laughing. The pain transitioned to his eyes, and he groaned, falling onto his back.

“For Christ’s sake, that’s more drama than an episode of Jerry Springer could contain.” he huffed. “But…I understand. That kid’s a piece of me, why would she want to get rid of it? I realize that now…”

“Why not just let her come back, then? It has been nine months, Mister J, maybe…”

“It isn’t that simple, Johnny.” Joker let out a puff of air, tapping his fingers against the wooden floor. “There’s a part of me that has kept wanting to, hell if I didn’t try to get her back already…but ever since then, I just can’t bring myself to seek her out. I can’t bring her back, not to lie to her again, not when I don’t even know why I don’t want our kid.”

He moved his hands from the floor, resting them against his stomach.

“I thought it was because it wouldn’t fit with our lifestyle…but you know something that just hit me? Batman has brats of his own, and they sure as hell don’t fit his lifestyle. So that can’t be it…”

“Then what is it?” Frost walked over, almost sitting in a nearby chair, but stopping. His boss was already laying on the ground, he didn’t want this to feel like a damn therapy session.

“I…I can’t place it…” Joker sat up, propping himself up on his elbows. He squinted slightly, in thought. “You want to know why I haven’t slept, Johnny? Those nightmares. Those damn nightmares, that’s why. They’re getting worse…yet, the more they happen, I feel like they’re becoming more familiar, like they actually happened…”

“You think they could have the answer, then? You know, as to why— “

“You don’t think I haven’t thought of that? Again, Johnny, that isn’t exactly easy, either.” The Joker pulled himself to his feet, grunting. It was silly to state such a thing, when sleeping sounded like a terribly appealing thing to him right now, that wouldn’t be too hard. It was staying asleep that was the problem.

“Every time I try…I can’t. There’s a part of me that wants to find out, but then…”

“…but then you’re hesitant?”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly…” The Joker picked up a pair of shoes on his way to his bed, where he plopped down and slipped one of the shoes onto his foot, only to be delayed slightly by a knot in some of the laces. He yanked at it several times to free the laces, and continued tying them. “More like…uncertain, I guess. I’ve always liked my past being a mystery, you know? It’s made me more of a…threatening figure, I suppose.”

Both shoes now on his feet, he sighed. His hands rested on his knees, him leaning forward as his brow creased.  

“…would it make me any lesser of a man to know where I came from?”

“You’ll never know unless you find out, I guess.”

The Joker eyed Frost, seeming to contemplate this for a moment. Sighing, he shook his head and lightly slapped both knees, jumping back up. Glancing one more time around the room, he retrieved his gun holster from its place on the end of the bed, strapping it to his belt. Muttering under his breath, he moved to retrieve the gun but found Frost handing it to him. There was a serious look on his face now, any signs that he had been angry were gone, as that was how his emotions usually worked. Another reason Joker liked him so much; he knew how to placate his emotions when he needed to.

Today had turned to be an outright therapy session. Never in a million years did he ever think he’d open up to his right-hand man of all people, but then he supposed Frost was one of the few people in the world he really trusted. He had to give him some points for talking him down though, the only other person ever brave enough to attempt that had been Harley or Batman, hell even some cops were too afraid to be direct with him.

It did take the Joker a good second, but he slowly took the gun from the other hand, slipping it into his holster.

“Between you and me, Johnny, this conversation never took place. I don’t need any of the others finding out we got all schmucky, understand?” he stated. “No hard feelings; but you can imagine how that’d look.”

Frost nodded.

“Yeah, I got it. Never happened.”

Like magic, the Joker’s smile came back and he slapped the other man on the back, whilst heading out the bullet ridden door. He, like Frost, made several attempts to shut it on his way out, only for it to fall loose and hit the floor. Stiffening, he shuddered, but continued out of the room, stepping out for perhaps the first time that whole week.

He couldn’t say if it felt good, or if it felt weird, but there was one thing in his mind he did know. Whether he liked it or not, he had to try sleeping tonight. Frost had a point; he’d never know what he’d find out, what he’d even see, if he didn’t give himself the chance. If it meant finding out a non-bullshit reason as to why he couldn’t accept his own child, and especially--- _especially,_ if it meant having his queen back within arm’s reach, he was just going to have to grit his teeth with this one and suffer the consequences.

Those hallucinations, the voices…they could kiss his ass for all he cared.

* * *

 

In the Batcave, Bruce sat at his desk, a cup of tea that Alfred had brought down earlier sat unfinished and cold from his neglect, but his attention was anywhere but that cup of tea. It instead didn’t seem to be on anything in particular; instead, both elbows rested on the armrests of his chair, hands folded and propped near his face. Too much was on his mind, if enough hadn’t been already.

In his mind, he was still mulling over his encounter with that dark-haired woman earlier that day. Dick had suggested she might just be a fan, it wouldn’t be the craziest thing considering serial killers in the past had had fanclubs long after their arrest—something Bruce found absurd. But, he’d still counted it as a possibility; hoping that Dick was right—and that Harley Quinn was as good as long gone. For all he knew, Amanda Waller could’ve her hands on her herself; lord knows that woman didn’t need his help.

It still ate away at him though, right when he thought he was past thinking about it. Especially after seeing the state the young woman was in. The fact that she was pregnant…he couldn’t shake it. If it really was Harley…that would explain why she wasn’t with the Joker. No doubt he’d not been too fond of the news of being a father, not that Bruce would’ve ever expected him to be. The man was not that great with kids, contrary to what he’d constantly proclaimed to him after…

No, no—he wasn’t going to relate that to what had happened. He couldn’t—that would be selfish, wouldn’t it?

His phone went off suddenly, alerting him out of his immersed state. He reached over, pressing the button to receive the call.

“Dick, tell me what’s going on.”

“You were right—that girl you talked to? It’s her.”

Bruce felt his blood go cold, clutching both the armrests tightly. He knew it, he knew…he was right. Maybe that “world’s greatest detective” bullcrap that the press had put on him wasn’t such a corny thing after all.

“How do you know?” he asked, right as Alfred entered into the Batcave. “I mean—you didn’t get too close, did you?”

“Of course not! I watched her…she was wearing a wig. I saw her take it off and—well, common sense, Bruce. That was just the icing on the cake; her paranoid behavior, the tattoos were all red herrings. Plus, she looked like she was talking to herself.”

“See, what did I tell you?”

“Hey, that disguise could’ve fooled anybody. Sue me.”

“Don’t feel like right now. Can you tell me what she’s doing right now?”

“That’s why I called you, Bruce…” Oh no. With the way Dick’s tone lowered, there was no way this was anything good. “I lost sight of her after she went into her apartment…thirty minutes later, an ambulance was pulling up to the place.”

“Jesus Christ. Was anyone hurt?”

“Nah, nobody except her, apparently. I dunno if it was something related to her being pregnant, but…” If he had to guess, Bruce would’ve thought Dick had shrugged as he said this. “But, I followed the ambulance, she’s at Gotham General now. You got any plan of action?”

That was a good question. Did he? Given that he’d been sticking with the idea of that woman being Harley, he should’ve had some idea of what to do by now, but that was the thing; he didn’t. In any other circumstance, he’d gladly haul her back to prison, and then deal with Joker’s wrath, but as it was, she was pregnant…god, he knew she was a criminal, but he didn’t like the idea of her child having to pay for this very fact.

Careful measures would no doubt, have to be taken.

“Just come back to the Batcave for now.” He ended the call, sliding his phone to the other end of the desk. Picking up his cup, he made a face at tasting the tea and sat it on the tray that he just now realized Alfred was holding.

“I did spend an hour on that tea, you know…” The older man chided, at noticing how full the cup still was.

“Sorry Alfred, guess I wasn’t that thirsty.”

“Well I can see why. Is there any news on Ms. Quinn, sir?” Alfred asked, setting the tray aside. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but catch the last of that conversation. What is exactly going on, over there?”

“Far as I know, she’s in the hospital. Most likely because of some pregnancy complication, but I’m not sure.” Bruce fell back in his seat, huffing. His hands went back to running over the armrests, and he crossed his legs, in thought.  “I’ll admit it, Al, I don’t know what to do. I wasn’t counting on something like this being the issue.”

“None of us were, Master Wayne. It’s not surprising that that’s the reason though, is it?”

“Not at all. I wouldn’t expect the Joker to welcome a kid with open arms, let alone his own.” Turning his chair to face Alfred, Bruce couldn’t help but let his gaze wander to where the tainted Robin suit sat it’s display case. Alfred seemed to read his mind at this, giving him a warning look.

“I know what you’re thinking, sir, but whatever you do; don’t make this a personal thing. It’s been two years now, and—“

“Two years isn’t long enough, Alfred. I’m always going to remember what he did, what he took from me.” Pushing his seat back, Bruce got up, walking towards the suit, only to stop halfway. Closing his eyes, he fought back the gruesome images that threatened to display themselves…yet they came anyways.

_That hospital room…the damn, bloody hospital room, his…his corpse, with the mutilated smile, in the bed…_

Clenching his fists, his eyes opened back up.

“…I know what he would do to a child. What both of them would do.” he said, without turning his back. “Why would their own be the exception?”

“There’s no guarantee it would be, sir. I just want to make sure you aren’t doing this for selfish reasons.” Alfred stated, as he sighed. Bruce turned as the old man began to leave the room, and then looked at his cellphone. What way could he go about this…that wouldn’t seem selfish?

This was something he wrestled with for a good minute. Almost unwittingly, he walked back to his desk, and picked up his phone, scrolling through the list of contacts. At finding the one he was looking for, he selected it, and proceeded to press the call button. It took five minutes of listening to faint ringing, but finally, another voice answered on the other end.

“Batman.” A woman’s voice, firm, stoic. Amanda Waller’s voice. “I hope you’re calling with good news for me.”

“I am, Amanda. It’s about one of your prisoners.”

“Well, you’re going to have be more specific. Is it about an escaped prisoner or one that I already have, because if it’s the latter then this conversation is over.”

“Trust me,” Something nagged Bruce in the back of his mind, but he promptly ignored it. “This conversation is far from over. I’ve found Harley Quinn.”


	15. Chapter 15

The drive out into town did not last long. It seemed that all the common sense that had hit the Joker full force that afternoon had also came packaged with the amount of lost sleep he’d attained as of late, and it was only within the matter of an hour did he ask Frost to drive back to the penthouse.

It was only about 5:00 in the evening, but after the many sleepless nights and long days he’d suffered, he was more than ready to hit the sack. He gave Frost the okay to head home earlier than usual, though the other man was a little dubious to leave his boss alone after today’s stint, Joker reassured him, at least five times, that he’d be fine, and he had finally relented and left.

It was just him now, alone in the penthouse.  Though hopefully, it wouldn’t be that way for much longer. Especially after tonight. One quick shower and a change of clothes later, the Joker slipped into the big bed, careful to make sure he was positioned on his side only. Harley’s side had been mussed up enough due to the day’s events, and he’d spent a good five minutes smoothing it over before crawling under the covers.

If he was right about his assumptions, those assumptions being that his nightmares were memories; he could find out what was hindering him from accepting his own flesh and blood, and he wouldn’t have to worry about attempting to keep Harley’s half of the room organized anymore. Lord knows she’d always been the more organized out of the two of him and he could just imagine the fuss she’d make if she came home.  As he pulled the heavy purple covers over his body, that very thought occurred to him and he reminded himself to get someone to tidy it up tomorrow. If Harley was coming home, he wanted to make sure everything at least looked decent.

Now every light in the room, even the one lamp, was off, and the curtains remained drawn. His lower half completely engulfed by the bed covers, all that was left to do was will himself to go to sleep. He was more than ready to get a full night’s sleep, but he was still wrestling with himself over the possibility of what he was going to see. Given that he was going to willingly let these memories come back…the possible consequences did make him just a tad anxious. This was precisely why he’d never fought to regain any trace of his past; especially after gaining status as a crime lord. Would it undermine him to know where he came from?

He didn’t know.

But he needed to find out. If he had to spend one more night without his queen sleeping next to him, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d function. The past nine months had been a whirlwind and he was just ready for it all to be over, to restore his normal routine of chaos. It’d been fun catching Batsy off guard, he had to admit, but he missed actually planning things out.

That was something to figure out for another day. For now, he just needed to go to sleep. Though now that he actually wanted to sleep, it seemed like such a thing wouldn’t come to him. He just lay in bed, unable to silence his thoughts, for almost half an hour. 

_So many thoughts…so many annoying, pesky thoughts…_

 Things wouldn’t really be going back to normal, would they? If he let Harley come back, they were going to have a third clown in the ring soon. What adjustments would he have to make for that? He would have to share Harley, heaven forbid. Babies were needy, and she’d no doubt have that little gremlin practically attached to her for at least a few months before she’d be ready to go out with him again.

Huh, so maybe things going back to normal would be taking longer than he’d thought.

It wasn’t anything he wanted to think about now though, damnit, he just wanted to go to sleep.

It was almost 6:40 by the time he really started to feel the sleep weigh in. An hour or so after the thoughts had run their course, his eyelids started to drop shut. Out of instinct, he almost fought it off, but reminded himself he needed to sleep tonight. Like it or not, he had to let those nightmares bother him. It wasn’t appealing, it didn’t sound fun nor was he looking forward to it…but he needed to. He had, after all, seen much worse and done much worse than whatever he’d been seeing in these dreams. Whatever was waiting for him couldn’t possibly be that bad.

_Or it could…_

He couldn’t respond to the voice, too overcome with sudden weariness. Five minutes later, he rolled over to his side and dropped into a deep sleep.

* * *

 

**_6:45_ **

_“Jack…. Jack, can you answer that?”_

_He was a small child, at least nine years old. Shaggy brown hair, looking like it hadn’t been cut in months, tired eyes, and a blank face. Sitting on a big chair, he innocently swung his legs as he sipped at a juice box, the doctor in front of him sighing as he leaned in his chair, massaging his temples._

_“Look, Jack. I understand I’m probably not using the best choice of words here, but you need to cooperate with me.” The doctor was an older man, balding, a thick beard and a pair of thick-rimmed, round glasses resided on his face. He looked impatient, and a bit weary, and it was understandable given that the clock on the wall read 1:00 AM. “We’ve been here since 8:00, and I’ve done everything I can think of, yet you’ve given me nothing. I’m trying to help you, Jack, please say something.”_

_He kept sipping the juice box, his big eyes staring up the frustrated doctor. Blinking, he stopped sipping, dropping the empty juice box onto the table next to a big file._

_“I don’t know what you want me to say, Dr. Craven. I told you; I hurt my momma.”_

_“Yes, Jack, I know; but you’re being very vague.” Dr. Craven adjusted his eyeglasses, sighing. “What I’m trying to figure out is why you hurt your mother, exactly why, you decided to stab her with a pair of scissors. Now I asked why you wanted to do it, can you answer at least that, for me?”_

_“But I’m tired, sir.”_

_“I know, son, as am I. And we can both get what we want as soon as you tell me what I need to know.” The doctor folded his hands in front of him, as he waited for the boy to respond. The clock ticking grew louder and louder with each moment he didn’t respond, then, right as the big hand came over the 2, he spoke. Though nothing emoted on his face; his mouth, eyes, everything remaining blank, and his voice sounding very monotone._

_“I hurt her because she was mean to me.”_

_At this, Dr. Craven released a semi-sigh of relief and picked up his pen, scribbling this down on the pad of paper in front of him._

_“Alright, we’re getting somewhere…just how was she mean to you, Jack? What did she do to you?”_

_“She called me names. She said she wished she’d aborted me or something, whatever that means.” The boy scrunched his nose up, scratching at an itch. “She started hitting me after Daddy left, so I decided to hurt her too.”_

_“And…what would you have done if your father had come back in at the last minute?” Dr. Craven looked up, pen still in hand. “Like—say he forgot his keys. Would you have hurt him too?”_

_The boy nodded. This seemed to worry the old man and he chewed on his lower lip, before writing down something else on his paper._

_“Why would you have hurt him, Jack? Did he hurt you too?”_

_“Yes. He said it made him happy to see me crying.” His voice was still very monotone, which seemed to shock the doctor immensely. He’d talked to many children in the past; many who had suffered at the hands of abusive parents, and normally he had a very hard time trying to get them to open up. But this boy…he didn’t seem as if it phased him._

_Coughing, Dr. Craven sat his pen down, re-folding his hands._

_“Um…okay. Why do you think it would make him happy to see you crying?”_

_“I dunno. He just thought it was funny.” He shrugged. “He’d tell me ‘at least you’re showing some kind of emotion’. He was always mad that I wouldn’t smile.”_

_“I see…” The doctor almost picked up his pen again, but stopped midway, letting his palm rest on the table. He pondered his next words carefully, and looked at the child sitting across from him. “So why did that bother him so much? Why did you never smile?”_

_“Because I never had anything to smile about.” Such a direct answer. “Why should I smile when all my daddy does is smack my face? What about momma? Am I supposed to smile when she calls me a “little bitch”?”_

_Dr. Craven cringed at the boy’s use of vulgarity, snatching his pen up._

_“Uh—certainly not. That’s definitely nothing to smile about.” Quickly, he wrote something down and looked back up at him, forcing a weak smile. “You only smile about good things. Like, we’re almost done here, and we can both go to bed soon. That’s why I’m smiling, so why don’t you try?”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because, it’s something to be happy about, Jack. Whatever makes you happy is what should make you smile. If not the thought of going to bed…at least, think of something that would make you smile.”_

_At the doctor’s last words, this seemed to ignite something in the small boy’s head. The blank expression remained for another minute, then slowly, but surely, a grin began to spread across the boy’s face, although it looked quite strained, like he hadn’t smile in a long, long time. But the more he smiled, he felt like…he was starting to like it. It felt stuck, but it felt nice._

_This seemed to satisfy the doctor, as he began to gather up his notes._

_“See, Jack? It’s not that hard.” he said. “So, what are you thinking about?”_

_The smile all but frozen on his face, the little boy glanced up towards the doctor whilst the man got up from his seat._

_“I was just thinking…about the nurse, who sits with me at breakfast…”_

_“Janice? Oh yes, she’s very nice, I’m sure that—“_

_“—I was imagining, if we had real forks…what she would like with one in her eyeball.”_

* * *

 

**_8:30_ **

_He was slightly older now. Eighteen, at least, his hair more neatly trimmed, yet the tiredness remained on his face. Various bottles of pills sat on his desk, while he himself was seated on his bed, and the two adults in the room with him stood in front, both displaying serious, angry emotions._

_“You guys fucking suck, you know that? You have no idea what the hell I want to do with my life—“ He was saying, not before the heavier man in front of him interrupted him._

_“Language, Jackson! We didn’t raise you to use that kind of language!”_

_“Fuck you, old man, you didn’t raise me at all. I was already hitting puberty by the time you decided to actually adopt me.” He huffed, lighting another cigarette. “Don’t act like you have a right to decide what I do.”_

_“Of course, we have a right, we’re your parents!” The woman spoke up this time, though she sounded more worried than angry. “We just don’t want to see you throw your life away like this! Please son, we’re just concerned!”_

_“Too bad I don’t give a shit. There’s nothing you two can do or say to keep me here, I’ve already made up my mind.” Hopping to his feet, he bumped the cigarette off against an empty soda can on his nightstand. “I’m not going to spend four years trying to earn a degree that isn’t going to do crap for me. Hell, Jeannie isn’t going to college—so what’s the point?”_

_“That’s different, Jeannie can’t afford it. We’re actually offering to pay for you.” The man stepped forward, as his son continued throwing various items into his suitcase. “I even got you a job at the chemical plant so you could afford your own place—not so you could waste it on a life that isn’t even going to work out!”_

_“How would you even know, you a psychic?” He tossed a pair of pants in the suitcase, spinning around to sneer at his adoptive father. When the man didn’t respond, he snorted and resumed packing. “Nah Pops, I quit that shit job. Me and the band’ve already got a gig someplace downtown; soon enough, we’ll have our own album at the mall, just wait and see.”_

_“There’s no guarantee of that, honey. What if that doesn’t work? How are you going to support Jeannie?” His mother pointed out, stepping up next to her husband. “That is, if you’re so insistent on living with her. Why can’t you just go to school and secure a chance of getting a better career?”_

_“Oh, let me see, maybe because I don’t want to.”_

_“Listen to your mother, son.  She’s right. How are you going to support a family if you can’t even land a steady job?” He started to slam his suitcase shut, but the burly man grabbed onto the top half, preventing it from shutting. He cut a harsh glare towards him while the other man did nothing but look at him with furious concern._

_“Let go…” he growled._

_“No, Jackson, I will not— “_

_“Stop fucking calling me that, asshole.” He tried to slam it again, still being thwarted by the other man’s hold on the lid._

_“Watch your mouth, boy—“ His father warned him, but abruptly yelled out in pain as the suitcase’s top half came clamming down on his fingers, all but crushing them. His wife panicked, rushing over to help him free his fingers, which were all but black and blue by the time they were freed. Both of them stared at their son in horror as he finished buckling up the locks._

_Lifting the suitcase from his bed, he eyed both adults, showing no clear remorse in the injury he inflicted. As if that wasn’t alarming enough, a smile came over his face as he noticed his father’s swollen fingers._

_“I told you to quit calling me that…” he said, as if that had been a warning._

_Neither adult responded._

_The smile vanishing, he now looked at both of them coldly, the trio being alerted to the sound of a car horn outside. Outside the window, a pitiful Jeep could be seen next to the driveway, and a young brown haired woman sat inside it, seemingly waiting. He opened the window and whistled, causing the woman to snap her head his way. A grin appeared and she waved eagerly._

_He looked back at his parents. His mother looked all but ready to cry, and his father…well, he just looked pissed off, instead of in pain like previously._

_“Jackso—“_

_“Not…my name…”_

_“Jack.” His mother all but choked, pressing her hand to her chest. “Please, you have to stay. Please re-consider.”_

_“No, he can go. He’s a fuckin’ psycho.” His father muttered.  “Let him throw his life away if he wants, he’ll probably be homeless by thirty-five.”_

_Abruptly, he left, presumably leaving to put ice on his hand. Gasping, his mother glanced between him and his exiting father, then quickly ran out after the latter. He was almost tempted to follow, but it wouldn’t be worth it. It just wouldn’t be worth it._

_Sparing Jeannie another whistle, he waited for her to look back up at him and made a motion to indicate that he’d be down in a second. She nodded, and went right back to flipping through the magazine she’d brought with her._

_Scooping up his suitcase from the ground, he was halfway out the door when he remembered something. Grumbling, he trekked over to the bathroom and fumbled through the cabinet before pulling out several full pill bottles, some marked “clozapine”, another marked “risperidone”. He stuffed these into his hoodie pocket, proceeding to pad down the stairs, suitcase in hand. His parents could be heard arguing in the kitchen, though he stopped halfway to listen, he didn’t care to pick up on anything they were saying and exited the house._

_It was almost a miracle the house didn’t shake with how he slammed the door behind him._

* * *

 

**_10:50_ **

_“Christ, Jeannie, you can’t be serious!”_

_He was twenty-four years old now. Years had passed since he had left home, never once having looked back it seemed. His now-wife, Jeannie, the girl with the brown hair and pretty smile, sat on the couch next to him, visibly pregnant. Both hands were clasped in her lap as she sighed, and twiddled her thumbs._

_“I’m—I’m not kidding, Jack…Mrs. Kendall said she needs that rent by next week.”_

_“Oh for the love of—fucking—“  He turned away from her, feet hitting the floor. “This is just…wow. I can’t. Of course, this had to happen now.”_

_Running his hands through his hair, he cursed and kicked at the kitchen table, causing the pathetic object to topple on its bad leg. This frightened Jeannie and she scooted back, hugging herself._

_“Don’t be angry…please. I told her we didn’t have the money right now…” she whimpered. “She promised to give us another month if we couldn’t pay up next week.”_

_Her voice was incredibly weak, tweaking just a bit of regret within him. He sighed and massaged his temples, before slowly setting the table back up right._

_“I’m not, Jean, I’m not, just—“  Despite his efforts, the table hit the ground again and he grumbled. Damn that old thing, it was not worth the twenty bucks he had paid for it. “It’s just…you know it’s been hard…since the band broke up, and I can’t find gigs anywhere. Not to play music, not even to…you know, do what I love. Nobody wants to hear my jokes, or my music.”_

_“Well what about the chemical plant? Can’t you get your job back there?”_

_“Hell no. I quit that shit stain and I’m never going back.”_

_“Jack, please…” Jeannie moved closer to him, grabbing his hand. “I know you hated that job, but…you really need to find steady work. The baby’s going to be here in a couple of months…”_

_“A fact I’m well aware of…” He fell back in his seat and covered his face, all but groaning into his hands. “You don’t think I’ve been trying to find work? That’s all I’ve been doing—every second since I left! Turns out you can’t do much without a degree.”_

_“No kidding.”_

_“Yeah, how about that?” Sitting up, he rubbed the back of his neck and grunted, pushing himself up from his seat. “I thought at least…you know, I could do what I wanted...you know, entertain people, make them laugh. It’s who I am, it’s a part of me. “_

_He looked back at her, sorrow overtaking his face._

_“But I can’t do any of that shit, not if I’m trying to take care of you. It doesn’t look like that’s going to work out anymore.” he said. “What am I supposed to do? Give up what makes me happy, just so I can afford to feed our baby?”_

_“Oh no, Jack, I’d never—“ Jeannie started, but was interrupted as he growled and hit the poor table a second time. This caused her to jump slightly, as several plates crashed onto the floor. Steam poured from his ears, almost, and he leaned against the table now, fists curled tightly._

_“Don’t be like that! I bet that’s what you want—hell I bet you never found any of my jokes funny, did you? What about my music, was that all a lie too?”_

_“Jack—“_

_“Shut up!’ He slammed his palm against the table, causing a glass and fork to smash onto the tile. “God just—shut up! Don’t lie to me, Jeannie! Please don’t lie to me!”_

_“Jack! Enough!” Jeannie all but shouted, jumping to her feet the best she could given the size of her stomach. He was fuming, but didn’t resist when she grabbed onto his shoulders, making him face her._

_“Look at me, Jack…Jack Kerr…look at me…”_

_His expression was crumbling now, and he struggled, his eyes locked on the ground. His shoulders shook, as did his fists which were still curled extremely tightly._

_“Jack…I’m not lying…” A knot developed in his throat as she spoke, calmly, holding onto him firmly but gently. “I’m not lying…I’d never lie to you. You know that. I love you, okay? Just…calm down…”_

_His shoulders, his fists, relaxed. Tears forming in his eyes, he slowly looked up at his wife, pressing his fist against his mouth as he released what sounded like a choked sob._

_“Jean…” Though he fought it, his emotions overcame him and he broke down, falling right into her arms. She held him, rubbing his back, shushing him, all while he just cried._

_“I’m trying, Jean…I’m really trying. I just want to be a good father…”_

_“I know, baby…I know…”_

* * *

 

**_12:30_ **

_He was still twenty-four, but he looked anything but alive, or young even. His eyes were heavy, full of grief, anger, pain, and his mouth fixated into what one would almost think would end up being a permanent line.  Every part of his body felt numb, as one hand held fast to an umbrella while rain fell. In front of him was a tombstone, two names chiseled into its limestone. One line read “Jeannie Kerr, loving wife, daughter, and mother. May the angels guide her home.”; the other read “Eleanora Kerr, the little angel that was called home early.”_

_Grief._

_It was a funny thing._

_You’d hear all about these deaths on television, watch movies where people died; yet when it happened to you in real life…you realized that whatever had happened was not done by actors, that the person who had died was not safely in their dressing room munching on snacks, but instead was dead in the ground, six feet under several layers of dirt and trapped within the confines of a coffin._

_He’d read the inscriptions on the headstones several times and by now, was all but seething inside of himself. Both these inscriptions made him sick, if had been up to him he would have chosen something a little less typical. The longer he stared, the more the empty void in his chest began to hollow,  his breathing heavy.  It was quizzical to him; he’d never imagined he’d ever be here. Not this early, anyways; he’d always imagined it would’ve been him first. He’d always thought it’d be Jeannie and their daughter standing at his grave, not him standing at theirs._

_Was he supposed to feel sorrow? Pain? Maybe he was still in denial, maybe it hadn’t really settled in yet. The longer he looked, the more empty his chest became. Empty. That’s how he felt; alongside an immense amount of guilt, despite this event having not been his fault. But was it? Was it really not his fault?_

_He could’ve been there…could’ve noticed that the wires in the socket were loose. Could’ve saved her…_

_Guilt…so much guilt, pain…so much pain….emptiness…_

_Things began to fly in a flash; medicine bottles staying unopened, the ones that had been opened were disposed of either the toilet or the trash can. His mind, derailing, piece by piece, inch by inch…until he found his vision all in red. His own breath fogging up his vision, loud voices clamoring within every area near him. Quick paced footsteps, followed by a deep voice._

_Stopping._

_Halting._

_Crashing._

_Falling._

_Then suddenly, it was as if his brain had been a chalkboard, being promptly erased. Everything around him became blurry, he could only make out shards now. Bits where he was in agonizing, stinging pain as the chemicals pillaged his body; the loud, insane laughter as he fell from the tank._

_And his day at the cemetery, the argument in the apartment, the fight with the man and woman, the discussion with the doctor…all became figments of a false past, banished within the deepest recesses of his mind._

* * *

 

It was 1:43 exactly when the Joker jolted awake. It was almost jarring, to awaken with the sense of vigor that he felt surging through his veins, but new things were racing through his head. It hurt, the more the thoughts came back, and he sat up in bed, heaving heavily as everything rushed through like a stampede of bulls.

_He remembered—he actually remembered, all of that—_

Some of it still felt hazy, but some of those events were beginning to feel extremely familiar to him. He could remember bits and parts of that discussion with the doctor. Being in Arkham had not been his first time being in a mental hospital after all, he remembered now—blurry as it was, he remembered spending at least several years of his life there.

“But for what reason, though??! Think, think!” He groaned, and slapped at his own head, trying to knock any stray pieces into place. “Think, damn it! Why was I there?”

_Wait…yes…that’s it. That’s precisely it._

He’d stabbed his own mother of course. Now he knew why he’d been so hesitant to let these memories come back; not just because of the possibility he’d see himself as the vulnerable human being so many of his enemies believed him to be, but because so many of them went straight back to the darkest times of his life. His childhood, though he tried, was not coming back to him entirely; but there was definitely one thing he was able to pull back from it; the neglect he’d suffered.

That would explain so much. His eyes all but lit up as the dots continued to connect; yes, neglectful birth parents, he vaguely remembered the event he had told Dr. Craven about; the event in which his father had slapped him and proceed to laugh at seeing his son cry.

 _“At least I know some gears are turning in there!”_ The man had bitterly stated, proceeding to kick him in the ribs.  At remembering this, a sharp pain struck Joker in his ribs and he grabbed at his side, boiling anger filling him with the reminder of that painful night. Had that been the same night he’d stabbed his mother? It must’ve been—he couldn’t go back any farther than that.

_Ugly skank deserved it—she had no right to call herself a mother._

So that part of the puzzle was completed. He could see it like a real picture in front of him, but so many other pieces were left scattered, but he was getting somewhere! This was good, wasn’t it?

Fully alert and awake, he sat up completely in bed, throwing the covers off as he jumped out. He paced around, almost half-tempted to go raiding the liquor cabinet for a second night in a row, but decided against it and instead began to file through the next memory that had followed the doctor one. The nice man and woman who had given the teddy to him, in another nightmare…were the same ones who had been talking to him, or that version of him, while he’d filled up his suitcase.

Those had been—his parents, right? Or, adoptive ones—shit, yes, he did remember them now. How did he forget? Frank and Sheila Napier, two of the first people he’d sought out and killed about a month after his “accident” with the chemicals. It’d been so long ago that they’d moved to another part of his mind as just another pair of unfortunate souls who’d met their ends at his demise…it was becoming so clear now. He remembered how damn controlling they’d been, how invasive…boy did he not regret leaving them in the sliced up, bloody mess the police had found them in.

That was two memories he’d gone through now. It was dawning on him so much, the pounding headache that had developed was only getting the worse the more he continued, but he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t. He was so close to finding out what he needed to know; he just had two left to go through.

To be fair, these last memories did seem to be the worst ones, however…

His pacing ceased, and he stopped at the window. He pulled back one curtain, gazing out through the dark city, his palms resting against the cold windowsill. Jeannie…so, that had been the woman taunting him alongside Harley in his hallucinations…

_His wife…_

Who would’ve thought the sob stories he’d told Harleen about a dead wife would’ve actually turned out to be true. He supposed, maybe, that this was karma’s way of paying him back for that. What was awful, though, was that so much of that….really had been made up. The dead wife part was truly the only part he could seem to remember…aside from that one argument, of course.

He’d almost been a father in that prior life. So close…seven months, two more, but instead, he’d had to bury his child before it even got a chance to breathe. And he’d almost repeated that nine months ago, and it would’ve been his fault again. Not from a lack of being there, but because he had been the one to cause its death.

Almost all the dots were practically connected now; neglectful birth parents, controlling adoptive parents, and the pressure of fatherhood, not to mention the overwhelming guilt and anger he felt towards losing something that he valued. It was making…so much damn sense now. Too much sense, it was scary. He wasn’t sure if he liked remembering now.

But all this recollection was providing a more logical excuse as to why he couldn’t accept fatherhood. It’d been what he’d feared most this entire time, the one thing he’d kept telling himself it wasn’t.

_…he was afraid._

No, that was bullshit—he really couldn’t, could he? There were definitely some other factors the more he gave it some thought—yeah, there was some fear mixed in there, but what else? There was still the notion that a kid wouldn’t fit with their lifestyle, where that had been his typical excuse this whole time, he only kept in because, he’d be lying if he said that still wasn’t a concern. There’d already been the idea he’d pondered earlier; life wouldn’t go back to normal should he succeed in getting Harley to come home.

So much change would be required, and change…he realized now, that change might just be the primary factor.  He’d never been fond of change, evidenced by the friction he displayed upon Harley’s desperation to prove she loved him, but had stubbornly accepted it by the time she’d let herself fall into the vat.  Scratching his nails against the windowsill, his eyes scanned the city, as he also simultaneously scanned his thoughts.

_Fear…_

_Change…_

Oddly enough, this is what he had felt upon Harley coming into his life. Had denied everything, denied what he felt, tried his hardest to shut her out, hurting her, yelling…and had he had repeated these motions after they found out about her pregnancy.

Something clicked, causing him to move back from the window. He stared back at his reflection, realization, long and hard, overcoming him like a tidal wave and almost making him stumble back.

_That was it…that was it…_

He knew now.

The neglect he’d suffered early in life, the control and change brought to him from his adoptive parents, and the pain and loss he’d been dealt…it all accounted to why he’d been so spiteful of Harley in the first place. And why…why he couldn’t comprehend the idea of opening his life up to another person…because he’d had a hard enough time letting Harley in…

He just couldn’t deal with having someone else to love, someone else to risk losing. Once, just once, he’d lost his Harley, one of his most beloved and prized possessions…and the toll it had taken on him was almost as bad this second loss had taken on him. The idea of possibly allowing himself to care and let someone else share his life…to lose someone else, heaven forbid he lose both of them…what would that to do him, how would that even all end?

All this felt like a huge weight that someone had decided to drop on him from the ceiling, his legs weakening as he fell back, hitting the bed in shock.

_He knew…he knew now…_

Harley could come home. And this time, should she ask…he had reasons instead of excuses.

Once the shock wore off, all he found himself doing was grinning. Widely, like those times he’d come up with some genius idea, or if he was witnessing the suffering of one of his greatest adversaries. For the very first time in nine months, he felt…happy. A laugh bubbled somewhere within him, before spilling out of his mouth, him having to grab onto the bed post to keep from falling back.

It was almost ridiculous, that it had taken him so long to figure this shit out. So what if laughing was all he could for five minutes straight, with everything that had hit him tonight, he couldn’t help it.  Now he knew why Harley had always called him a “stubborn ass”, it took him much longer than he really needed to figure these things out. Not that he missed that nickname at all, hell he missed being called “puddin’” more than that.

But still, part of him was almost looking forward to hearing her voice shout those names at him again.

Having finally calmed himself from his riotous laughing fit, he surveyed the room for where he might’ve thrown his phone and once he had it in his hand, brought up his list of contacts and called Frost. He didn’t care what time it was, or that the man was probably fast asleep; they had plans to make, and these plans could not wait. 

* * *

 

Ivy never would’ve thought a day would come where Harley wouldn’t be blowing up her phone with text messages. She wouldn’t say she was the definition of a clingy friend, but she’d been woken up enough times at night by the sound of her phone buzzing, and it was always be Harley complaining about something like her random craving for pickled eggs and cheesecake, or something about the baby kicking her too much.

Last night, she’d been oddly quiet.

It didn’t bother Ivy too much at first, she’d just assumed Harley had managed to get a good night’s sleep for once. But when she hadn’t even texted her that morning, like she’d assumed she would, she started to get a little agitated. Several times had she texted her, even proceeding to call her, but had received nothing in return.

It did occur to her that she might just be sleeping, especially since it was only 6:30 in the morning. Even now, as she sat in her living room trying to distract herself with the floorplan of some local laboratory, she kept glancing back to where her phone sat on the other end of the sofa, expecting it to go off at any second.  Still, it didn’t, remaining still as ever.

Shaking her head, Ivy resumed going over the floorplans as she had since she’d gotten up. Just a second later, a knock at her door caused her head to turn, at first towards her phone thinking that it had gone off. Chiding herself silently, she pulled herself up from the couch, and headed towards the door. No sooner had she opened it then several of her plants spread their vines out defensively, no doubt due to who was standing outside of it.

“Such a rude host, Pam. Aren’t you going to invite us in?”

The last person that she’d ever expected, or wanted, to see at her home. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d show up unannounced, but she still wasn’t amused. Sensing her anger, the Joker grinned, his fingers tapping against the doorframe as he leaned against it, the other hand resting on his cane. Frost, alongside a couple of other henchmen, stood behind him, armed with the weapons expected of them.

A vine shot out from behind Ivy, twisting around his arm tightly. That served nicely for a response, as all she continued to do was glare at him bitterly. He gave it a bemused look, and held up his hand for Frost to lower his gun. He lowered, although unwittingly. This didn’t cause the vine to unwrap from Joker’s hand yet, in fact, it only tightened enough to the point of where he almost felt something breaking.

Gritting his grill, he jerked, attempting to free himself. It didn’t work, and he chuckled, partly out of annoyance.

“You uh, sure have a funny way of saying hello…” he remarked. At this, another vine shot out and grabbed his other hand, pinning against the open door. Though he gasped, this didn’t seem to phase him much and he just gave a disappointed glare Ivy’s way. He noticed the third vine wavering in front of them, and sighed.

“Please tell me you aren’t planning on what I think you’re planning…” he said. “Because that...that just wouldn’t be amusing.” 

“It wouldn’t? Huh, funny, because it’d sure make me feel a hell of a lot better.” Ivy curled the vine, almost ready to let it wrap itself around his throat. “You’ve got some nerve showing at my doorstep—“

“Ah, I believe we’ve had this discussion before, Pamela—“

“Can it, clown! I know you wouldn’t come here without a good reason, and you don’t even have to tell me what it is. I’ve been through this run-around enough times to have it figured out by now.” Ivy crossed her arms, all but fuming. The vine crept dangerously closer to Joker’s throat, still, he didn’t seem at all bothered by this at all.

“Now, give me a good reason as to why I shouldn’t just let this thing suffocate you, right now. And you only get one chance, clown, because don’t think for a second that I’ll hesitate—“

“Because you promised Harley.” Joker couldn’t help but meanly grin, in a very childlike manner at that, only causing Ivy to grunt.

“That’s a promise I’m more than willing to break after the shit you’ve pulled—“ The vine relapsed slightly, looking ready to strike at any second. “She’ll just have to forgive me.”

But as the vine started to curl itself near his throat, several shots were fired from one of the henchmen’s gun, causing the plant to wither and hit the ground, letting off a pathetic screech, shortly by Ivy’s own shriek as she collapsed, gathering the now-dead plant in her hands. Her face was a beet red by the time she was glaring back up towards Joker, who’s hands were now free from the binds of the vine. He rubbed his knuckles, snickering.

“Oh you’re a dead man, Joker—“ Ivy shot up with the intent to release a fury from the rest of her plants, but he held up his finger. Shaking it almost like a scolding parent, the mean grin was replaced by that of a warning one.

“Careful, Pamela…” It was then she noticed every gun held by the henchmen, aimed directly with the means of killing the rest of her plants. Not that some of them weren’t indestructible, she wasn’t worried about those—but was she willing to risk the rest of those? Not when they were practically her children, she wasn’t, that was like asking if you wanted to risk the life of the weaker child for the stronger one.

Every vine relapsed, retreating back within the plants. Regrettably, Ivy stepped aside as Joker and his goons strolled inside.

“I swear, this place keeps getting worse for the wear everytime I come over here…” Joker mused, stopping next to the television. He glanced at his men and made a waving motion with one hand, causing them to break off into several of the other rooms. Ivy made a noise of protest and started after them, only stopping and storming back over to the Joker.

“What is this? First you threaten my children, now you’re vandalizing my entire house?!” Thankfully by now, the door had been shut, but her voice was still loud enough to shake the walls. “What’s going on, Joker, don’t tell me you’re looking for Harley.”

“Amazing, she got it right on the first guess!” Joker gave a fake gasp, clasping one hand against his chest out of mock surprise. Ivy scowled at him. “I’ve only ever been over what, ten, twenty times already? My god, Pam, I thought you’d know what I wanted by now.”

“I know exactly what you want. Unfortunately for you, she isn’t here.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Boss—“ They both turned, as Frost approached. “We’ve looked around the entire apartment, there’s no trace of her.”

Ivy almost wanted to smirk, but she was too pissed to even manage the smallest of these, and instead turned back to Joker, her arms still crossed.

“See? She’s not here, you can go.”

“Don’t get so eager, weed…” The Joker sneered, moving from his spot near the television. “We’re not going anywhere just yet, not until I’ve collected what’s mine, at least. Why don’t you just cough up where you’re hiding her and we’ll be out of your hair?”

“So you can go back to beating her senseless, again? Hell no!”  Ivy’s arms unfurled, as she threw down in a fit. “And I’m not hiding her, I’m not that stupid! She isn’t even here, she left the night after she showed up here.”

“Ah, see? Now that’s helpful!” The Joker clasped the knob of the cane with both hands, chuckling. He looked over at his henchmen as they came back into the room, shaking his head at them. “Why can’t everyone else be this cooperative?”

“I am not being cooperative with you, Joker, I want you to leave, right now—“

“But there’s no fun in that, is there?” He twirled his cane around, strolling closer to Ivy. “Look, Pam, unfortunately I can’t hurt you because of the whole, erm—you know, immunity thing? And you can’t hurt me because of the promise you made Harley, so why do you just make this easier on yourself and just spill the beans like I asked?”

“I will not! Why bother, you haven’t even made effort to talk to her in over nine months, why now, of all the times?”

Joker did not answer, and only signaled to Frost, who in turn lifted his gun. Glaring back at her, his expression had gone immensely dark, the same look she recognized in the various other visits he’d made to her house after his and Harley’s spats. It wasn’t anything she was intimidated by, but then again, he’d never threatened her plants before.

“Now now…this is about both our children, Ivy…yours are at a bigger threat right now, and I’d hate to make you…childless…” More of the henchmen lifted their guns, causing Ivy’s heartbeat to quicken. Her palms felt sweaty as she clenched them, and she swallowed hard, her emotions being a dangerous mix of anger and frustration.

“Why…you….you fucking…”

 The temptation to let more vines loose was extremely tempting, but she knew very well the Joker was not a man to make light on his threats. She knew the minute that even one vine wrapped itself around any part of his body, his men would make quick work of them.

“You…fucking son of a bitch…”

“Ooh, language, young lady.” Joker snorted, stepping back from her. The temptation still lingered, but she fought it off, fighting to lower her voice as she attempted to speak, though it was taking all her self-control to resist the urge in even slapping him. At least then she’d be somewhat pleased with herself.

“Alright…god…just leave them out of this…” she muttered, and Joker signaled for the henchmen to lower their guns. “But don’t think I’m not smelling a rat here, clown, I will not hesitate on strangling you if you even lay one hand on her.”

“Ease up, Poison Oaky, I’m not planning on it.” He all but rolled his eyes as he snapped.

“Good. And you better mean that, because I’m coming with you.”

He did look as if he were about to protest at this, while Ivy went to retrieve a pair of shoes and a jacket from her bedroom. When she came back, he simply sighed and shook his head, tapping his cane against the ground.

“Look, uh…plant, it’s not that I don’t trust you but—“

“You don’t. Yeah, the feeling’s mutual.” Ivy shrugged the jacket over her shoulders. “But the only way you’re finding out where Harley is is if I get to go along. If you’re insisting on being stubborn, I can always write the place down and trail you. It’s really up to you.”

She zipped up her jacket.

“That sound fair to you?”

A silly question to ask, when she knew that did not sound fair at all in his ears. She half-expected him to growl and threaten to shoot her plants again, but to her surprise, he slowly nodded, despite the annoyed look on his face.

“Alright…alright, yeah. Fine, you can come.”

He gathered his cane back up and shot a finger her way as she passed by him.

“But just so we’re clear, I’m leaving your kids with babysitters as leverage in case you try anything. Comprende?”

Ivy opened the door, looking back at the henchmen who had settled themselves onto her couch. She bit at her lip but solemnly nodded, not wanting to push her luck any further.

“Fair enough.”

This was enough to satisfy him and he nodded again, and motioned for Frost to follow him. As both men passed through the front door, Ivy grabbed Joker by the arm on his way out, now finding her anger had subsided enough so she could finally give that smirk she desired.

“Oh, and in case you try anything?” She shifted her eyes towards the spot in the living room where her plans resided. “You find me new babysitters. Is that clear?”

Joker glanced back at her plants, then back to her. No grin came this time, only an annoyed scowl, and he shrugged before shoving past her and out into the hallway. Shaking her head, Ivy soon followed after, shutting the door behind her. The whole way to the van outside, she remembered that he hadn’t exactly answered her question earlier, upon buckling herself in, she eyed him as he sat across from her and asked again.

“So, why the sudden change of heart? It’s only been nine months, did common sense finally catch up with you?”

Click.

Joker positioned his own seatbelt in silence, not answering her just yet. As expected. The car engine rumbled and the van lurched forward as it drove down the street. The two sat in silence until the vehicle came to a stop at a red light, and finally, he spoke.

“…I needed time to think.”

* * *

 

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed, as always! I know you were all hoping to see how Harley was doing in this chapter, and I’m sorry for that. I promise I won’t delay on that anymore in the next chapter. In the meantime, leave a review if you liked the chapter and as always, thanks for reading!**

 


	16. Chapter 16

It was the steady sound of continuous beeping that stirred her from unconsciousness.

Harley grunted, shifted in the bed uncomfortably whilst her eyes remained shut. It felt as though a million weights had been glued down on her eyelids, as they heavily opened only for her vision to be met with a dull whiteness. Her brows creased, eyes all but falling shut again. Several blinks later and her vision cleared, revealing the dull whiteness to be a plaster ceiling. Within that plaster ceiling she could also make out a fire detector, and a tiny sprinkler. Her eyes travelled the ceiling, still heavy with what she only assumed could be sleep since she’d apparently just woken up, but she didn’t remember falling asleep.

Travelling, they went further…further, until they went down, spotting the door. A pale green it was painted, and it had a small window in the center. Sounds of rushed footsteps, loud voices and even more beeping, filled her ears.

It dawned on her where she was.

This surely would’ve been enough to cause her to shoot up in bed had her head not been spinning. What had happened the other day was a bit of a fog; and was only a minute before it all came back to her. The pain, the blood…she hadn’t fallen asleep, she’d passed out. And, apparently, was in the hospital now.

So, her screams hadn’t been for nothing, then.

When the haze wore from her mind space, one thought instantly entered her mind.

_Baby._

_Baby—baby—baby—_

She sat up, like she’d been startled out of a bad dream, touching her stomach with both hands several times over, her body tensing up. It was coming back now; it was entirely coming back. Where the pain had come from, but the blood—where had the blood come from?

_What happened—what happened—_

_Please be okay._

When her hands were met with the solid mound that was her midsection, she all but breathed a hearty sigh of relief, letting herself relax back against the pillow, lumpy as it was.

_Baby’s okay…she’s okay…_

This was enough to warrant a small smile. Though it didn’t last long the more that the fact she was at the hospital settled in, causing it to slowly disintegrate. Her wig was still on, right? She couldn’t remember—

In a panic, she grabbed at her hair, at the strands. Okay, good, it was black, she was fine. They didn’t know.

But the tattoos were another thing—oh god. That wouldn’t be enough for anyone to know, would it?

Although she wasn’t the most religious person, she silently prayed the doctors had assumed she was some crazy fan. It wouldn’t too ridiculous, she’d spotted one girl with a “Lucky You” tattoo once. But then again, that was probably a popular tattoo choice anyways…still, she hoped that they’d assumed and not bothered alerting any law authorities. She couldn’t deal with that right now; not so close to her due date, not when she was physically incapable of defending herself. This was the exact kind of public attention she hadn’t wanted; was why she’d planned on a homebirth, was why she spent so much time concealed in her apartment. The longer she was out in public, the longer her real identity had the chance of being exposed.

Hopefully she’d been here long enough to where the doctors would be okay with releasing her, because she wasn’t going to wait around for them to figure things out.

She did almost debate if she wanted to get out of bed or not; hospital beds were not especially comfortable, but at this present moment, her lower half felt horribly sore. Whatever meds they’d given her had worn off, much to her misfortune.  Almost daringly, she sat up, albeit slowly, and carefully began to move one leg off the bed.

“Pain’s just temporary, it’s just temporary…” she told herself, refraining a tiny groan as her foot hit the floor. Out of all the advice the Joker had given her, this was the best piece of it. The only part she chose to ignore right now was the “smile through it” part because it was difficult to smile when your entire crotch felt like it’d been ripped with a chainsaw. If it hurt this bad after…whatever had happened, she didn’t want to even fathom how it would feel after having the baby.

Not something she looked forward to.

But she also didn’t look forward to anyone accidentally discovering her identity.

This only motivated her to move her other leg off the bed, a bit quicker than the other. Her hand grasped the railing, and she grit her teeth as she dared to stand up, wobbling badly enough to send her back to the bed. Twice more she attempted to get back up, but it was clear she was still far too sore even manage standing at this present time.

Even muttering the same phrase over and over hadn’t helped, and all she could do was let out a tiny scream as she hit the mattress again.

“Holy hell…”

Okay, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to wait just a little bit longer.  Maybe, breaks between stand-ups…that might work.

She decided to give it another five minutes until she tried standing again, but in that time, she heard the door opening behind her and would’ve gladly scrambled back into her former unconscious position, in a bet to perhaps buy herself some time, but she was already on the edge of the bed now. And she did not possess any willpower to drag herself back there, especially if it meant attempting to get up again.

So, she stayed put, only looking back briefly to see a nurse entering the room. An older woman, maybe in her fifties—it was hard to tell, but her hair was greying. Given the chance, if anything went wrong…she wouldn’t be too hard to dispose of should she need to. It wasn’t something Harley would have a problem with, but she didn’t need to be causing any more scenes this week. Ending up in the hospital was her stunt for the week, she didn’t care to double it.

But she would if she had to.

Thankfully, the woman only looked surprised to see her up, and smiled. Harley grabbed the blankets, wrapping it around her arms to cover her tattoos, and only stared at the woman as she came around to the other side of the bed.

“Well, looks like you’re up. How’re you feeling?” she asked.

Harley opened her mouth to respond, but an “ahh” was the only thing she could muster. Instead, she glanced towards the IV next to her. She’d been hooked up to that thing? How had she not noticed that already—oh, yeah. She’d been trying to get out of bed despite an aching crotch. Just what had happened to her back in that apartment to the point that she’d need to be hooked up to an IV, and—and was that a blood transfusion tube?

She looked back to the woman.

“What happened to me?” she asked, surprised to find how incredibly hoarse and sleep-laden her voice sounded. The nurse, who by now had started to adjust Harley’s IV, glanced at her briefly, then resumed adjusting.

“Uterine rupture. You lost a lot of blood, but, you’re going to be okay.” she said, removing the empty bag from the IV. “You’re lucky one of the other nurses had your blood type.”

 _Whoa, lucky me._ Harley’s own voice came back as sarcastic in her head.

“What…the fuck is a uterine rupture?”

Though she seemed perturbed by her vulgarity, the nurse maintained her smile, tossing the bag into the waste bin as she retrieved a fresher one. 

“That’s something you’ll have to ask the doctor, I’m not that fantastic at explaining.” _Why are you a nurse then if you can’t even explain a medical issue, good God._ “But basically, it’s a tearing of the uterine wall. It’s actually a very rare thing, thankfully we had a doctor around who could do the surgery.”

She finished clipping the fluid bag and brushed her hands off, sighing. Harley was only mildly grossed out at the woman’s explanation, brief as it was, and it was almost hilarious—she’d seen and done so much worse, but just picturing what she’d been told almost made her want to throw up.

“When…when can I go home?” She started fidgeting with the blankets she’d wrapped around herself, attempting to ignore the scratchiness of the fabric. She didn’t want to sound too curious, but the nurse didn’t seem that suspicious. After all, it was common for patients to ask shit like this—even mental patients. Harley had had her fair share during her time at Arkham, Joker being the one exception. Maybe that’s because he all along when he’d be going home, had it all planned out. 

“Well…it’s not up to me to decide, you still have a follow-up with a doctor. It might be another night, but we’ll see, dear.” Harley watched the nurse as she opened the door. “I suggest you just take it easy for now, though.”

_Take it easy she says, she isn’t the wanted criminal._

Still, there was other question pressing at her mind. Right as the nurse left, Harley turned the best she could, accidentally letting one half of the blanket fall from her shoulder.

“Hey, wait a minute, lady…what about my baby?” She didn’t know why she hadn’t asked this already; the fact that her bump was still present didn’t mean anything. For all she knew, some horrible birth defect had occurred from all this. The nurse’s calm reaction did offer some peace of mind, as she simply smiled and stepped out the door.

“No need to panic; we already did a scan. Your baby’s doing just fine, miss.” She nodded back towards the bed. “Now, get some rest.”

The door shut, leaving Harley alone in the room again with the beeping of the machine next to her. Rest was the last thing on her mind; especially since she knew the baby was okay, that was good enough for her. She was not about to wait around another whole night, she was sure this wouldn’t be the first time a patient had bounced without being discharged. It was entirely tempting to go lay down and go back to sleep, but she just had to leave.

That nurse might’ve been nice, but who was to say everyone else in the hospital was the exact opposite? Nah, sleep would just have to wait until she got back to her apartment. She’d take it easy back there, just go on bedrest for a bit and see if she could get Ivy to bring her some takeout later. She hadn’t eaten since the prior afternoon and she was starving, and even though she’d now just noticed the full plate of hospital food on the tray near her, there was no way she was touching that crap.

So began her next dare to get out of bed. She threw the blanket off, pushing through the tiny stab of pain with a grunt as she steadied herself. Okay, step one was complete. Cautiously, she held onto the IV pole as she attempted walking across the cold floor, over to the small closet on the other side. Each step was painful, but she kept repeating Joker’s words to herself, whispering them, with each grunt of pain she let out.

“Pain…pain is temporary…pain is temporary…” she breathed, briefly crying out as her knees nearly gave way. Grumbling, she pulled herself back up, beginning her trek back to the closet. “Geez puddin’, I dunno what kind of pain you were experiencing when you came up with that phrase but it must’ve been mental.”

 At last, she’d made it to the closet. Glancing around quickly to make sure no more nurses were coming, Harley threw the doors open and spotted her clothes, folded up neatly within a plastic bag. She snatched it up and was about to pull on her jacket, but no sooner had she done that then she heard a pair of deep voices coming from the outside of the room. It was hard to tell what they were saying at first, and wouldn’t you know it—she was curious. Out of the side of her eye, she could see through the small window, where it looked like a couple of guys in suits were talking to a nurse.

_Shit. Who were they?_

Were they here about her? They couldn’t be—if that was the case she’d been in a cell already, or at least, handcuffed to the bed.

Abandoning the closet, she crept closer to the door, close enough, to pick up what they were saying. Only bits and pieces met her ears, but the next exchange of words was what made her step out of view from the window, in a frightened panic.

“We understand a patient was brought in here yesterday due to pregnancy complications—Lena Sorkin, was it?” One deep voice said, Harley wasn’t looking now, but was sure that the nurse was nodding.

“Uh, yeah. Look, I’m sorry, but why exactly is she any of your concern? Are you relatives?”

“No sir. We have reason to believe she’s the escaped convict we’re looking for.” The other voice said, only causing Harley to inch further into the corner. “She’s supposed to be serving a very long prison sentence; and we’ve been looking for her for at least ten months now.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I— “

“Was she sporting any tattoos?” The gruffer voice interrupted the nurse. “Like, say a tiny heart, near her eye? What about a harlequin pattern on her left arm?”

She didn’t stick around to hear the nurse’s response, bolting away the quickest she could away from the door, back to the closet. That was enough—that was all she needed to hear. She had no idea who those guys were, but clearly, they worked for the opposing force if they were talking like that. That was more incentive than ever for her to leave this place.

In a quick scramble, she wrestled off her hospital gown, only to get stuck halfway on her IV. Yelping, she grunted and tugged at the tube, enough times to rip it loose from her vein. Once she was free, she went back to taking off her gown and slipped on her baggy shirt, and was in the process of sticking one leg into her pants when the pain, which she’d been ignoring no thanks to the adrenaline rush that had come over her.

Again, she repeated the same words, quickly and quietly, managing to get the pants on. She was about to put on her jacket when she realized the voices had stopped. She froze, clamping down on her shaking jaw. The doorknob was turning, she didn’t have to look to know. In a panic, Harley looked around the room for any possible means of a hiding place and noticed a space in-between the closet and wall, which she squeezed herself into as best she could. As a means of showing she was still alive, and very pissed off, the baby kicked furiously at her mother’s ribs, a groan of pain emitting from Harley.

“Oh, can you stop that?” she gasped, pressing her palms against the wall. “Momma’s trying to save both our skins right now, okay? Cut me some slack.”

The door opened, and with perfect timing since the baby stopped her kicking. Harley held her breath as the suited men were lead in by the nurse, and she shrugged even further away from any beam of light coming near the closet. She watched, quietly, fingernails digging into the wall’s paint, some chips falling loose.

“…you said this was her room? Where is she?”

“Hey, I was one of the nurses who put her in here, I think I’d know if this was her room or not.” The nurse snapped back, apparently moving from where he’d been standing at the doorway. “The doctors were wanting to do a follow-up scan; she’s probably in one of the exam rooms.”

Harley peeked, just enough to see one of the men nod to the other, who was noticeably much shorter than him.

“Wait here in case she comes back before us.”

The big man left, being led out by the nurse. The other, whom Harley dubbed “Shorty”, turned to walk over to her bed, causing her to suck her head back into her hiding spot. She peeked out again as he sat down, her eyes darting between him, and the door, that the nurse had not exactly closed entirely. Freedom was unfairly close, making her all but frustrated. How could she possibly get past this guy, any other day she could’ve easily snuck and strangled him, but was sneaking even possible when her stomach was the size of Jupiter, let alone the fact that her crotch still hurt.

This might be difficult.

Quietly, as possibly as she could muster, she slipped out from her hiding spot and started inching towards the bed, where Shorty’s back was turned. She spotted where her IV stand still stood and clutched onto it, at first using it to support herself the more she walked. She was certain her heart was all but beating out of her chest by now, the closer she got to the bed. At any second it was likely to hammer right out from within her and take off bouncing across the floor.

The wheels started squeaking, alerting Shorty to her presence. But as he started to get up and turn around, he was met with the hard metal from the IV stand as Harley whacked him upside the head with it. This wasn’t enough to send him down and he was about ready to snatch his walkie talkie from his belt to alert his partner.

“I don’t think so, sweet cheeks!” Harley responded, relishing in the man’s grunt of pain as she delivered another blow with the stand, sending him straight out cold onto the ground. A coppery pool of blood formed beneath the man’s head and she stared down at him, unable to resist giggling at his unconscious body.

That had felt, _unbelievably_ , good.

My, how she had missed this.

There’d be time to dwell on this later; he was out now and there was no telling when his pal would be coming back. With what she could see through the crack of the door, it didn’t look like anyone had noticed, and no one seemed to be coming back…would it be a safe bet to leave right now? It’d have to be; this might be her only chance.

She stepped over Shorty, careful not to stain her feet with his blood. The only thing on her feet was a pair of socks, but she didn’t care. It was too late to turn around now just to find a pair of shoes, not when Big Guy and the nurse could show back up at any second. Should they come in here and find Shorty bleeding out on the ground and Harley trying to clumsily put on shoes, things would get messy real quick.

Harley did take a moment to crack the door open a little more, just so she could make double sure. Still no sign anyone was coming. She took this as her cue to step out, and began to walk down the hall, throwing her jacket hood over her head. The pain had seemed to subside for her now, either that or the adrenaline had kicked back in. Either way, she quickened her pace, turning sharply into a left hallway. Behind her, she thought she heard Big Guy’s voice, complaining about something to the nurse, which then quickly changed into loud shouting. They must’ve gone into the room.

She snickered, but didn’t stop to look back. Almost half the staff she’d passed were now running back to the room to see what the panic was about, a perfect chance for her to make a clean break. No one would notice, no one would stop her. Especially with how suspicious she looked, wearing her hood so low and having nothing but socks on her feet. If anyone had wanted to make a comment on those things, they hadn’t gotten the chance to no thanks to the dilemma in her room.

Ex-room, that was. She’d be back at her apartment sooner or later, back in bed and munching on wontons—or dumplings, she wasn’t sure which she was craving more. Going down the hall some more, she turned another corner and spotted the exit. Aha, so she was on the first floor? What luck.

_This is too good to be true._

**_Shut your trap._ **

As she started towards the exit, she passed a discarded cart full of surgeon’s tools. What it was doing there was nothing she could figure out, the only thing she could figure was that whoever had been pushing it had been interrupted by the commotion coming from further away. The shiny glint of one of the tools caught her eye and she stopped at the cart, inspecting the equipment with eager eyes, in the same way she’d ogled a jar of big candy that she’d spotted in a sweet shop window during one of her date nights with the Joker. Not that you could’ve purchased the jar itself; apparently you could only buy a few pieces to put in a bag. Needless to say, they’d walked off with the entire thing and left the poor cashier a pissing, shaking mess behind the counter.

Which, she would’ve also gladly done today if someone was behind this cart, but she’d have to settle for making off with the goodies. Her hands glided over the sharp tools, and at the sound of some rushed footsteps coming down the hall, she settled on a small scalpel and slipped it into her pocket, quickly resuming her way back to the exit as a barrage of staff members rushed behind her, and she briefly looked behind her to see Shorty being escorted off on a stretcher.

Jesus Christ, how bad had she done him in? Not that it was any concern of hers, he could have a concussion for all she cared. Right as her focus returned to her frontal view, she was startled by a young nurse who had stepped out from one of the rooms. At first, she’d looked like she was talking to someone else, as she laughed and shut the door, pulling out a wheelchair with her. Upon seeing Harley in the hallway, she stopped short.

Confusion almost instantly was all over her face, and she started towards Harley. Harley stopped in her tracks. It would be too suspicious to turn back and walk away; she couldn’t let this lady suspect anything, though she did want to turn around and disappear into the nearest broom closet. That might’ve been a better alternative now that she thought about it.

“What are you doing out here?” The nurse was getting closer now, the confusion seemingly mixed with concern now. Her gaze went down to Harley’s feet, noticing only the socks. She looked back up, and stopped in front of her.

“Come on, we should get you back to your room. You shouldn’t be up right now…” she said softly, grabbing Harley by the arm. Harley instinctively jerked away, unintentionally backing away from the other woman. Who the hell was she to decide that, she didn’t know that Harley was actually a patient. Or maybe, the socks had been a dead giveaway…possibly.

“N-no, no—I’m fine—“ Harley stammered, but the woman just gave an annoyed smile and held onto her arm, acting like this wasn’t the first time she had dealt with a stubborn patient before. With her temperament, you’d think she’d worked in a nursing home.

“Oh, I hardly think you’re fine, honey. Let’s just get you back in bed so you can rest.” The woman’s gentle tone all but transformed into a quiet shriek as Harley pulled away defensively, whipping out the scalpel from her pocket and pressing it to the woman’s throat, shoving her up against the wall.

“I am _not_ going back to bed.” she seethed between her teeth, bringing the blade dangerously close to the nurse’s skin. “I’ve had enough of this shit, I’m _leaving,_ and unless you don’t want me opening your throat up like Niagara Falls, how’s about you help me out?”

“You’re crazy—“ The nurse protested, attempting to slip free. She only stopped when Harley lightly swiped the scalpel against her throat, forming a tiny red line.

“Yeah, thanks for noticing that, I appreciate it.”

“Please— “

“Bitch!” Harley cut her off, bringing the scalpel up to the woman’s cheek. “You listen to me, and you listen to me good. You’re helpin’ me get outta here, whether you like it or not. I’ve been known to make some pretty pieces of art with a knife, you don’t help me out, consider yourself next on display.”

The nurse didn’t respond, just staring back at Harley with big, wide, fear-ridden eyes. Harley waited, tapping the scalpel against her cheek, and looked aside out of paranoia, thinking she’d heard footsteps. Nothing there, the staff had gone oddly quiet. They couldn’t have been that pre-occupied with Shorty, could they? Either that or Big Guy had rallied them into looking for her; it’d only be a matter of time before they found out where she was, she couldn’t play around with this nurse for much longer.

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you!!” Surprised, she glanced back at the nurse’s sudden response. The woman had desperation painted all over her expression. “Please, just don’t hurt me, I swear—I’ll help you!”

So quick to apologize; it was amazing how much people seemed to apologize whenever their life was on the line. But at the same time…she thought she’d picked up on a hint of acting in the woman’s tone. Harley hesitantly pulled the scalpel back, shoving it back into her pocket. Something was starting to feel a little…off here, but maybe the nurse really was being desperate.

All but trembling, the frightened nurse glanced behind and around them, before nodding for Harley to sit down in the wheelchair.

“If anyone asks…” she said. “I’ll tell them you were discharged, and that your family is waiting for you outside. Does that work?”

“That works for me. Just say nothin’ about the you-know-what and we’ll be bueno.”  Harley cautioned, and was not about to protest getting a chance to sit down. Any rush of adrenaline was gone now and she was starting to feel the after effects of it, so, she moved to settling herself into the wheelchair and propped her feet on the stirrups. The nurse grabbed ahold of the chair and began pushing it, but to Harley’s alarm, didn’t seem to be turning around to where the exit was. She shifted and looked up at the woman, who’s fearful expression had shockingly melted into an…well, expressionless one. She looked almost robotic the more they went down the hall, and Harley felt the need to protest.

“Hey—hey, Nurse Ratchet, you’re goin’ the wrong way— “

“I’m aware.”

“Then what are you doing? How could you even miss the exit, it was _right_ there!” _This is bad, this very bad, Harley._ “Is there some other exit I don’t know about?”

The nurse eyed her, quietly, and looked back up.

“Something like that.” Christ, she sounded so monotone. That, plus her words, were of no comfort to Harley the longer they continued down into another adjacent hallway. She started to notice that the hospital was still that same odd level of quiet, and the staff members that had been floating around previously looked to have retreated off onto the other rooms. It was entirely empty.

Alright, this was starting to play out like a horror film, and Harley wasn’t liking it one bit. She put one foot on the ground, trying to bring the wheelchair to a stop.

“Okay, that’s enough, I wanna get off now—“ she started, but the nurse didn’t stop. She only kept going, all but causing Harley’s foot to cave in on itself and snap, making her yelp. “Bitch, are you deaf?! I said I wanna get off the ride, now!”

They turned another corner, that was even more ominously quiet than the prior ones. Only, this one wasn’t entirely empty. Slowly, the wheelchair was brought to a stop, and although Harley was ready to let this skank have it, she locked onto the individuals in front of her. There stood Big Guy, she knew him…another suited guy, he must’ve been Shorty’s replacement. Both had identical black suits on and eerily matching expressions.

Harley sank back into the wheelchair, raising her eyebrows. She looked at them, the back at the robotic nurse, and it dawned on her.

“Oh…oh, I get it. You guys are in cahoots with each other.” she remarked, snorting. “How cute, you’ve even got matching outfits. Well, except for her— “

She motioned back to the nurse, but none of them seemed amused by her comments.

“—she gets to wear a disguise, that’s always fun! Maybe you guys should take tips, you’re standin’ out like a pair of sore thumbs.”

“Same could be said for you, Quinn.” Another individual appeared, stepping out from behind the suit twins. Harley felt her wittiness wither away as the individual stepped into full viewing, almost conveniently, underneath a light. She was dressed in a black pantsuit, and wore a familiar pearl necklace that Harley had ever seen one other person wear before. Not to mention that voice…that quite suited the stoic, calm—yet terrifying, look on her face.

This was the bitch who’d threatened to blow her head up. The one person she’d been hoping to avoid this entire time.

“Amanda Waller…” She sounded breathless, and if she could’ve slipped any further into the wheelchair, she would’ve. Waller seemed delighted at Harley’s realization and stepped closer to her, folding her hands behind her back.

“Glad to see you still recognize me, Harley. How long has it been? Nine, ten months?” It was incredible how this woman could stay so calm but sound so spiteful at the same time. “I almost thought you’d passed your imprisonment off as a fever dream.”

“Nah, I’ve had worse fever dreams that that.” Harley shot back, gripping the arms of the wheelchair. Oh, hell no, no, she was not about to let this woman waltz back into her life, not when she’d been fighting so hard to get it back after wasting so much time behind bars. She felt so angry; just from seeing her, even if she hadn’t done anything yet. But with that anger, she also felt a sudden, immense fear for her unborn child, who she could’ve sworn she felt cowering inside of her.

 Waller just smirked.

“I can only imagine…” she remarked.

“Trust me, bitch, you don’t want to…” Harley pushed herself up, retrieving her scalpel with the full intent of striking, but a strong hand clamped onto her shoulder and promptly shoved her back into her seat. When she tried to move again, the hand remained, keeping her pinned down as Waller instructed the two men to assist. They both came over, revealing zip-ties, and began tying down the struggling Harley all while the fake-nurse held her down.

“Let me—agh! Let me go! Let me go or I’ll kill all of you!” she screamed, managing to kick Faux-Shorty in the groin. She tried to get up again, nothing but fear flowing through her veins, but she was overcome with a shot of pain from her crotch and she wilted, giving the men another chance to pin her back in her seat again.

“You sons of bitches! You motherfucking sons of bitches, let me go!” Half of her scream was out of pain, but by God was she furious now; not just scared, not just terrified, but also enraged. But it seemed no matter how hard she screamed, no one looked like they were coming to help her. They all just stayed hidden within the other rooms of the hospital, listening in on Harley’s pleas for help all while the men continued tying her down.

Now Waller herself was coming over, and looked down at Harley with absolute disdain, shaking her head.

“And to think, I gave you ten years off your prison sentence…”  she mused, stooping to be level with the blonde. By now, Harley had stopped struggling, but that didn’t stop her from shooting a nasty look Waller’s way as the other woman noticed the scalpel still clutched in her fist. She managed to pry it loose, looking it over, and just sighed.

“Is this really the thanks I get? Let’s not even mention the fact I used government funds to get you an espresso machine.” She tossed the scalpel aside, letting it hit the floor with a pathetic thud.

“Hey, don’t accuse me of being ungrateful! I took that thing with me, didn’t I?”

“Perhaps you did. But that doesn’t change the fact that you and your boyfriend jeopardized my entire project with what you did.” Waller stood back up, alongside the men as they finished adjusting the zip-ties on Harley’s wrists and ankles.  “The months I spent getting together Task Force X, and then you two decide to break everyone out for a family reunion.”

She sounded so heavy with spite; Harley didn’t blame her. Making big plans only for them to fall through was the absolute worst, but Waller’s plans were none she was a fan of. She didn’t give one fuck about this woman’s loss, not when she’d be profiting off other people’s deaths. She still couldn’t shake the image of Slipknot’s headless body swaying from the building, which at first, she did find an amusing sight; but after realizing she could very well be next on the chopping block, had grown extremely uncomfortable.

Not to mention…what had happened with Diablo…Waller hadn’t even batted an eye, or made any comment upon his absence when she magically re-appeared, unharmed, much to everyone else’s disappointment. It was different than what had happened with Slipknot, Harley hadn’t known him that well to be affected. Thinking about Diablo’s death was what angered her; when without him, her or nobody else on the team would’ve even stood a chance in saving the world. He’d done the bulk of the work by taking out that freaky giant guy, and was he getting any recognition for it?

It didn’t seem like it.

She’d watched the news a short time after Mister J broke her out, and nobody on the news even acknowledged that anybody in Task Force X had been involved. It’d made her so damn angry, and it made her even angrier now that she remembered that news report. Now what was she doing; trying to re-assemble the team? That’s what she assumed, since she hadn’t heard a thing from Deadshot or Croc for a while; regardless of whether she’d been pregnant or not, she would’ve eventually been found. It would’ve been inevitable, just like it’d be inevitable that they’d be forced to save the world yet again and not even get credit for it.

Harley didn’t want that; not when she had motherhood approaching. Not that she’d get recognition for that, but at least she wouldn’t be behind bars with a chip in her neck. Having processed all these things, Harley delivered her own smirk back at Waller, tipping her head.

“Huh, well forgive me if I don’t sympathize with you, honey, but I doubt none of us really fancied being your little toy soldiers for another thirty years.” she spat. “So, why don’t you just tell your friends to let me go and we can both be on our merry ways?”

“You really are crazy if you think that’s happening, Quinn.” Waller retorted, crossing herself. “The only place you’re going to be on your merry way to is behind bars.”

With that, she turned on her heel, clicking her way down the hall.

“Sedate her, I’ll be outside.”

On cue, the nurse withdrew a long syringe from her pocket, while the two men walked out alongside Waller. Harley saw the syringe out of the corner of her eye and squirmed, trying to inch out of the way. She’d had enough of those things stuck in her at Belle Reve, they’d hurt almost half as bad as the tazers did; maybe not as bad, but she’d never liked needles, not one bit. This stemmed from the time she’d gotten her booster shots as a kid, and this was almost a repeat of that moment. Her, inching away in fear, and the nurse looking way too calm to be handling a needle that big.

“Hey, wait—no, no, you can’t do that—“ She was interrupted, screaming out as the syringe was inserted into her elbow pit, her head instantly swimming, whatever drugs having been in the syringe flowing with ease through her veins. Her screaming began to mellow, softly, as the last of the drugs exited the syringe, and the nurse removed it, Harley falling limp in the wheelchair.

That was when the staff exited from the other rooms, as fake-nurse pushed her outside to a huge black van.   

* * *

 

He wondered why he still had this thing after nine months.

The Joker was holding one of Harley’s ultrasound photos, the one that he had managed not to burn. He looked down at it, whilst Ivy was giving directions to Frost in which way the apartment was. He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left, looking quite lost in a trance for half the drive. It was only when Ivy became distracted by Frost’s need for assistance did he pull out the photograph, which resided in his coat pocket.

It was such an old photo by now, but he couldn’t stop looking at it. Now that he was at the point where he was somewhat ready to accept fatherhood (well, in a sense, there were still some kinks that needed to be work), he’d taken to looking it over, anytime that nobody had been looking. Most of his henchmen had been surprised at his sudden change of mood, but he chose to not relay any details of his dreams to them and elected to letting them figure out his mood change.

Some of him still ached, but he was feeling a lot better than he had since Harley left. Now that there was a strong chance she’d be coming home; the future didn’t look too bleak. The only block in the road was the baby, with everything that he’d unlocked you’d think he’d be more eager in welcoming it with open arms; that didn’t mean he wasn’t still hesitant.

And the ultrasound…now that he looked at it, like, actually allowed himself to look at it…it was weird. Weird to think that he’d had a part in bringing that little creature to life. In this photo, it resembled nothing more than some alien-bean hybrid, he had to wonder what the more recent photos looked like. What the baby’s features were; who it resembled more so far, if it was a boy or girl.

Harley had been his one and only creation; but this? This was something they’d made together. He felt idiotic for taking so long to realize that, that that’s why she didn’t want to kill it. Maybe that was one reason, he didn’t know. Maybe she really was serious about being a mother; he wouldn’t be shocked. She was way better with kids than he was, hell she’d had better luck convincing some kids on the street to take the cotton candy they were giving out—cotton candy laced with poison, that was. Not that these kids had been random targets (they were the children of a rival club owner), and the poison hadn’t even been lethal. It’d only been to get back at the guy; who in turn ended up leaving the city.

That’d been some good times.

But how could he compete with that, he’d tried sweet-talking one of those brats and had freaked them out. Who’s to say his own offspring wouldn’t fear him?

Okay, no, he didn’t need these thoughts right now. They’d be at Harley’s apartment any time now and he’d have to be completely focused if he wanted to convince her to come back. He wasn’t expecting this to go over well at all.

“I didn’t think you kept those.” He looked up, seeing that Ivy was eyeing him curiously. Realizing the photo was still in his hand, he crumpled it and slipped it back into his coat.

“…only one…”

“What happened to the other one? You burn it?”

“…yeah…”

Ivy didn’t look at all shocked at this and shrugged, crossing one leg over the other. She glanced out the window, the van going silent again. For the most part, this had been a very conversation less ride, save for Frost asking for the right direction. The Joker, too, was looking out the window, but his mind went back to the photo in his pocket.

 “…is it a boy or girl?”

Ivy glanced back at him, now this was what warranted her shock. Like he was acting like he cared was so shocking; of course, he cared. It was just her idea of caring and his were two different things.  She eyed him seriously for a good minute before she answered.

“Girl.”

He nodded, not saying anything. Shifting in his seat, he went back to looking out the window, at the passing city.

_A girl…_

That was something Harley was no doubt excited about. He could just imagine all the money she’d spent on outfits, and the price all but made him shudder.

The car soon came to a halt in front of the Blue Bell Diner. Frost parked it behind a beat up pickup truck and both Joker and Ivy moved to getting their seatbelts off.

“Johnny, stay out here and keep an eye on things.” Joker ordered as he opened the van door. Frost nodded and turned the engine off, and Joker stepped out of the van onto the sidewalk, shortly followed by Ivy. She shut the door behind them and caught up with Joker, who’d been heading for the door.

“Whoa, hang on a sec, wrong way.” She grabbed his arm, quickly leading him towards the back of the building. “You can’t go in there looking like that, there’s people in there.”

“Are you insinuating something, plant?”

“No, it’s just, we’re here to get Harley, not cause a stir.” Ivy huffed as they continued walking, quickening her pace. “I know you’re used to just strolling into a building full of people and blowing shit up, but we need to be careful about this.”

They reached the back, their only company being a small black cat, that promptly meowed and leapt off a garbage bin. Ivy pushed open the door and walked inside, only to be shoved aside by Joker as he passed her and rushed up the stairs. There was no need to waste breath over this, so she resisted sighing and headed up after him. She had a feeling there’d be plenty of moments where she’d be sighing today.

There didn’t seem to be anyone out in the hallway when she got up to it; only Joker standing around like a confused puppy. He tapped his foot as Ivy came up and almost looked like he was pouting.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t say which apartment she was in.” he stated, almost making her facepalm. Again, she resisted the urge and walked right past him, down to 230. Joker wasn’t too far behind her, and she lifted her hand to knock. Though, she stopped right before her hand made it to the door. She crumpled her fist, and gave a half-glance back at Joker.

“Remember our promises. I’m not so willing to keep mine if you break yours.” she reminded him.

His only response was a snarl and he turned away from her, cracking his neck impatiently.  Now it was just becoming impossible to not sigh, yet Ivy went back to knocking at the door, several times, waiting to hear Harley’s eager feet approaching. But she didn’t hear anything, even after knocking an eighth time, there was nothing.

“Harley?”

Still nothing.

“Harley, it’s me. Can I come in?” Silence. There was nothing but silence, and the sound of the air conditioner inside that apartment. Ivy huffed and stopped knocking, stepping back from the door. 

“That’s…weird. She’s usually home.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s just sleeping…” Joker said dryly, putting both hands on his hips as he turned around. “It’s not like it’s only 7:30 in the morning.”

“Fuck off with the sass, Joker.” Ivy warned, and knocked again, but was met with the same response. “Shit…maybe she is actually sleeping. I don’t know, she’s almost always at the door before I’ve even knocked.”

She grabbed the doorknob, wriggling it only to find it was firmly locked. The Joker loudly sighed behind her to reaffirm the fact that he was growing very impatient, but inwardly there was a part of him that was panicking about seeing Harley again. It was still early in the morning, and goodness gracious had she proven to be the opposite of an early bird in the past; too many mornings she’d told him to “fuck off and let her go back to sleep”, there was no doubt she’d be in the most irritable mood right now and that wasn’t going to improve his chances.

Not to mention their last conversation hadn’t exactly been pleasant. That was another thing he wasn’t looking forward to.

Ivy still hadn’t had any luck opening the door, or getting Harley’s attention. Now having waited a good six minutes, Joker’s nerves got the better of him and he brushed Ivy aside, grumbling as he withdrew his gun.

“To hell with it—“ He was fully prepared to shoot the lock off when Ivy stopped him.

“What did I say about being careful?” she snapped.

“Well, do you have any better suggestions?” He lowered his gun, scowling at her.

Ivy’s mouth tightened into a strained smile, and she revealed a small key that she’d taken out of her purse during Joker’s fit.  A spare key. Of course, of course she’d given the plant the spare key, it wasn’t like she was that close with many people.

So, he stepped aside, waiting once more as Ivy inserted the key and fumbled with it for about a second, then the door unlocked. She pushed it open, motioning with her arms.

“Ladies first.” she said. The Joker growled at her and headed inside, placing his gun back on its holster. About halfway into the apartment he stopped, surveying the entire room. It was shabby; nothing compared to anything they had back at the penthouse. The furniture was clearly used and had patches stitched into where cotton was spilling out, and paint looked like it was chipping off the tables and walls.

_Why does this feel familiar…_

Well, regardless of how familiar it felt, it was absolutely depressing. Harley could’ve done so much better than this, but then again, he supposed it was smart of her to pick the crappiest apartment possible. Good way of laying low.

It made him a little proud to know that some of his teaching had worn off on her.

“Joker.” He took his attention away from surveying the room, and looked back to where Ivy was knelt over some dark substance on the ground. As he got closer, he realized that the dark substance was dried, and a dark shade of red. Something he was all too familiar with, and something he recognized as blood.

Kneeling, he touched the dried blood and pried some loose with his nail, it crumbling right off his fingers. The smell was still very strong and metallic, being enough to where neither individual had to ask if it was blood.

Ivy already looked concerned, not that Joker himself wasn’t, but he wasn’t ready to jump to a conclusion. He stood back up, dusting the dried blood off his hand.

“Let’s not assume things yet.” he said, trying his best to not let his concern show. “She…probably cut herself on something.”

“On what? What could possibly make a spill that big?”

“Use your imagination, this is Harley we’re talking about.” The Joker adjusted his jacket as cold air sifted into the room from the AC. “She’s probably crying about it in bed; she could get a papercut and shed tears over it.”

“I thought that was you.” Ivy retorted, Joker rolling his eyes at her. “In that case, I’m going to go check on her. If she’s hurt, she doesn’t need to be seeing you right now. Just wait out here.”

For once, Joker agreed. A hurt, irritable Harley had always proved to be a terrifying adversary and he liked to give her space until she felt better. She always did the same for him on some days; some days they’d just duke it out until the other was too exhausted.

So, he stayed put, as Ivy walked off to the room he assumed was Harley’s. He couldn’t help but notice the huge sign on the other room, which was decorated in hues of pink and purple, with little doodles of balloons. Could she have made it any more obvious that that was the baby’s room? He had to admit, he was a little amused by it, and curious to see what she’d done with it. He briefly remembered her mention of a circus themed nursery and wanted to see how she’d pulled it off. Her décor skills were ones to be admired; she’d done wonders with the penthouse after moving in.

Except for the hot pink chairs, she’d picked out for his office; those just had to go.

Ivy had told him to stay put though, but she wasn’t his mother; he left his seat on the couch and got up, walking to the door. It creaked open as he walked in, and was instantly met with the sickeningly sweet sight of a huge circus tent painted on the wall. No doubt she’d recruited Ivy to come over here and help her paint that.

Continuing further into his room, he saw a vast arrangement of stuffed animals on the dresser, and a canopy hanging over the little crib that had been placed near the window. It looked just like what you would expect, but on a budget. He had to wonder how crazy she would’ve gone had she been fixing this place up back in one of the bigger rooms at the penthouse.

The closet door, he saw, was also wide open, stuffed to the brim with several boxes and the lot. A stuffed bunny hung halfway out of one box, sporting a polka-dotted bowtie and top hat. He snatched it out, chuckling, and tossed it back into the closet. He was about to close the closet doors and head back out into the living room; as he had just realized he didn’t hear anything from the other room. Either Ivy and Harley were whispering, or these walls were really soundproof.

It was one of these options, he didn’t know which one. He went back to shutting the closet door, but his eyes caught onto what looked like an old book on the upper shelf. Almost, he didn’t pick it up, but it was so precariously placed he had to wonder if Harley had already started a photo album. It wouldn’t be unlike her, she already had a whole album full of photos from their various nights out on the town.

Snickering at the idea of what she could’ve possibly filled this album with, he took it down and flipped it open, surprised to find that half the pages were blank. He flipped through several pages until he realized that _almost_ every page except for the last one had no photos on it. Huh, so maybe Harley hadn’t started it yet. Maybe she was just keeping it for when the baby came.

This proved to be wrong, and even more confusing, as he came to the last page. On it was a singular photograph…and staring right back at him was the woman in the sundress. Sitting next to her was a man around her age, the man in his nightmares…him. With the lack of green hair and red lips, that was. At least, he was sure that was him.

_Now he knew why this place felt familiar._

“Hey.” His shoulders jolted at the sound of Ivy’s voice, and he snapped the album shut, looking to find Ivy standing far too close to him. She eyed the album.

“What was that?” she asked, as Joker tossed it back into the closet. When it didn’t go in all the way, he kicked it back into place several times until it disappeared.

“What was what?”

“The thing you were just—ugh, you know what? Never mind.” Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose. “What are you doing in here? I told you to stay put.”

“And you should know I don’t take orders.” The Joker reminded her, noticing that Harley was nowhere behind her. He almost relieved, mainly due to his being in the nursery. She’d flip out, no doubt, but still, he couldn’t deny the fact that his concern had just slightly elevated at not seeing her.

“And you should know I don’t care. But that’s beside the point.” 

“A fact I’m aware of. But you’re right, that isn’t the point—the point is,” He gestured to the empty spot behind her, raising his non-existent brows. “I don’t see Harley. What’s the holdup?”

“That’s what I was coming to tell you. She wasn’t in bed.” _Aaand the concern was going up another notch, damn it._ “I checked the bathroom too, but she wasn’t there either. I was coming in here to see if she’d fallen asleep next to the crib again but, apparently not.”

“I think I would’ve known.”

“Yeah, but that means we’re out of options. I don’t know where else she could be.” Ivy walked to the middle of the room, hoping to find any trace that Harley had been there, like a stray doll or stuffed animal. But everything was in place, like she hadn’t touched it in a while. “She’s obviously not in the living room, she’s not in the kitchen…and I doubt she’s hiding in one of the closets, unless she figured out you were with me.”

“What bullshit…” Joker scoffed and stormed over to Ivy, kicking over several stacked blocks in the process. “She wouldn’t hide from me. She’s not that cowardly.”

“Maybe not, but you did almost kill your daughter two times. I wouldn’t blame her if she was taking precautions.”

“Don’t push your luck, weed. You’re trying awful hard for a strike one.” The Joker all but snarled, standing in front of her with his hands gripped together. Ivy didn’t seem too impressed and finally released the sigh she’d been resisting, walking away from him.

“I didn’t think you were keeping count, I was sure I was at strike three by now.” she said as she pushed the door open.

“Keep it up and you will be…” Joker followed her as they both exited the nursery. “I came to you for help, not for constant ridicule.  If I wanted that, I’d have asked you for it.”

“And I still would’ve given it to you. I’m sorry if I have a loathing for human life and your girlfriend happens to be the only person I currently care about.” Ivy elevated her tone as she spun around, causing him to skid to a stop in his tracks. “I didn’t plan on walking in here today to find blood on the ground; I was sure if any blood did end up on the ground it’d be because of you. Don’t think for a second that I’m helping you because I want to; I’m only helping you because of Harley. And I would’ve gladly strangled you had you laid a finger anywhere near her.”

“I told you I wasn’t planning on it, I just wanted to talk to her!”

“And how did that turn out the last time? Not very good from what she told me.” Ivy huffed, crossing herself as she eyed him both dubiously and furiously. “I came over to her apartment to find her pressing an icepack to her face, let’s not even mention the bruise ring around her neck. And what about when she came to me a couple of weeks before that, with a torn-open arm and a bruised stomach? That’s twice, twice, Joker!”

“God, so stuck in the past! Learn to move on, Ivy!” The Joker threw both his hands up expressively, laughing harshly. “Yes, I beat her, I could’ve murdered our daughter! But surprise! I’m fucked-up in the membrane, I’ve got too many screws loose! So, of course _, of course_ I’m not going to react well to any off comment someone might make!”

He aggressively pressed both two fingers against the sides of his head, chuckling almost as loud as he had laughed. Ivy only looked at him with the same expression.

“In fact, we’re all fucked-up, Ivy, we all are. You aren’t any exception, think about it.” He reminded her, dropping one hand while the other unfolded against his head. “You said it yourself; you loathe humanity, and I wouldn’t be shocked if you had some tragic backstory I haven’t unlocked yet. We’re all rabbits, just wandering in Wonderland with our heads cut off! You’re not special just because you don’t like to shoot people’s brains out!”

He was all but shaking his unfolded hand at her as he spoke, it having formed into the shape of a handgun as if to imitate his statement about shooting brains out. He made bullet noises with his tongue before stopping, and cackled, now letting both hands fall at his sides.

“As the Cheshire Cat once said, my dear weed, we’re all mad here. Even the sanest people are, and they don’t even know it.”

As he expected, Ivy had no response to this. Instead, she looked away from him, and the sullen look on her face contorted at the sight of something standing in the doorway, which she had forgotten she’d left halfway open. Joker didn’t seem to notice and continued his rambling, running his hands through his hair as he turned his back, still cackling to himself.

“But, the long and short of it is, I’m not meant to be a father in society’s eyes. As it is, I’ve had time to think, and you know what?” He stopped cackling, his tone growing serious. “I don’t give a damn anymore.”

Never would he say the real reasons as to why he didn’t give a damn anymore, but it didn’t look like Ivy was paying attention anymore. He let go of his hair as he felt her tapping his shoulder, and looked at her.

“What?”

She didn’t say anything, only grunting and nodding her head to the doorway. Confused, he looked over, and clamped his mouth shut at the sight of an old woman who standing there, a small dog on leash next to her. She had on a pair of thick glasses, yet she squinted at the two intruders, the dog yipping at them as he bounced on all fours.

Joker leaned near Ivy, lowering his voice as he asked; “Who’s the old bitch?”

She ignored him, instead focusing her attention on the confused old woman.

“Mrs. Peterson, right?” The woman stared at Ivy, not even nodding. “I’m sorry, if we disturbed you that is. I’m Lena’s friend, remember? She gave me a key to the apartment…”

“Lena?” Joker hissed in Ivy’s ear, and she just shot him a look. At the mention of Harley’s fake name, the woman lit up and smiled, her squinting coming to a stop.

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry too, I thought you were intruders.” She apologized, her dog still yipping furiously. She shushed him, tugging on the leash enough to make him stop. Upon noticing Joker, she shockingly didn’t seem too freaked out and her smile remained.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked, shocking Joker that this woman wasn’t reacting to him as one might’ve expected. But her glasses were pretty thick, he wouldn’t be shocked if she could only see a blurry outline of him.

“Oh, him? He’s uh…” Ivy’s voice trailed. “He’s um, this is uh…”

“I’m _Lena’s_ boyfriend, _Joe_.”  Joker spoke for her, sounding disgusted at having to use the faux name and all but spat it out. “We’re looking for her, you wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”

“You mean the hospital hasn’t contacted you yet?” Instantly, the smile was replaced by alarm on the old woman’s wrinkled face, a frown overcoming it. “Strange, she was admitted late afternoon, yesterday. I would’ve thought you’d gone to see her.”

_Hospital!?_

That blood was there for reason then, and it hadn’t been a simple cut if she was in the damn hospital. The Joker and Ivy exchanged alarmed expressions (probably the only time they’d ever shared matching expressions). During this time, Joker felt his phone going off in his coat pocket, but ignored it. It was probably one of the boys freaking out over one of Ivy’s plants, and that could wait. That wasn’t important right now, not when Harley was possibly in danger. Being in a public hospital…it was too open of a place. Even with a disguise…

“What happened? She didn’t go into labor, did she?” He broke from his thought train as Ivy questioned Mrs. Peterson.  

“Oh, no, at least I don’t think so. I’d just come back from walking Francis and heard her screaming…” The woman’s left arm trembled, probably due to some tremors. “When I came in here, she’d already passed out. I have no idea what went on, I only saw the blood and called an ambulance.”

“Do you know which hospital she’s at?” Joker shoved past Ivy, storming closer to Mrs. Peterson. It was hard to tell if he sounded angry or frightened, though that was normal. It’d be in the woman’s best interest to give him a clear answer, but after thinking for a second, she slowly shook her head.

“No…I don’t think so, I’m sorry…”

_Wrong answer._

Joker’s phone was still going crazy, but he continued to ignore it, storming even closer to the now-alarmed Mrs. Peterson. He looked almost ready to grab the old woman by her sweater, as if that would help get the answer he wanted.

“Are you sure? Are you really sure you don’t know? Or maybe you just don’t want to tell us, is that it?”

“Jok—I mean, Joe!” Ivy scrambled over, pulling him back before he had a chance to grab onto the poor old lady, though it took some effort. Poor Mrs. Peterson looked frightened now, and was continuously shaking her head as she backed up, her dog going nuts again.

“I swear I don’t know, I’m so sorry!” she pleaded. “I’d tell you if I did, believe me!”

“That’s something I’m having a hard time doing, dearie— “

“Joe! Stop it!” Ivy succeeded in pulling Joker back, causing him to almost stumble over a chair. “Enough, alright? She said she doesn’t know, let her go.”

Not that Ivy really cared about this lady’s fate, but she was still adamant that they didn’t cause a scene. Stewing, Joker hunched over and brooded while Ivy apologized to trembling Mrs. Peterson, who then left a minute later. After she’d left, she turned back to him.

“How many times do I have to remind you to be careful? We can’t afford shit like this right now!” she fumed. “I want to find Harley as much as you do, but we’re not going to get anywhere by threatening old ladies!”

“That bitch knew something else. I know it.” The Joker countered. “Maybe you haven’t dealt with enough liars to realize these things, Pamela.”

“Oh, don’t me started on liars, I’ve dealt with more than enough.”

His phone was still going off, only this time he could faintly hear his ringtone playing from underneath his coat. Ah, so whoever was calling had gotten tired of typing out messages, then? He held up a finger towards Ivy, and pulled his phone out to answer it. The caller ID screen displayed the name “Tim”, who just so happened to be the young recruit who he usually had guarding the penthouse whenever they left. It was a mystery as to how he hadn’t killed the boy after he’d accidentally barged in on him and Harley.

“I told you I was out running errands, Timothy, this better be fucking important.” He snapped into the phone, startling the henchman on the other side. He was not in the mood to deal with whatever shenanigans that boy had started now, not with the prospect of his queen being out there, and very much vulnerable, for whatever reason. He didn’t doubt that she couldn’t handle herself, but with all that blood she’d lost…she must be so weak right now.

“S—sorry boss, sorry—“ Tim’s voice was shaky, had been ever since he’d been yelled at by Joker all those months ago. “Bu—but you need to get back here, as soon as you can.”

“And why, pray tell? Did you miss the part where I said I was running errands?”

“No sir, I di—didn’t, but— “

“But what? What’s going on over there?!”  

“Th—there’s a woman, here, sir. I tried to get her to leave but she’s still here, in the living room.”

Woman? What woman? He wasn’t expecting anyone today, not when he’d last had the chance to check his schedule. It was probably the wife or girlfriend of some associate of his, no doubt. It wouldn’t be the first time one had dropped by, in some attempts to make “peace” with him using some unorthodox method…it was suffice to say many of his associates had been lucky to not end up widowers because of Harley’s doing.

“Try getting her to leave again, then.” He plopped onto the chair’s armrest, while Ivy stood by. “Because I do not, and I’ll make this very clear; I do not have time for this shit today. Whoever it is just going to simply have to be added to my waiting list, understand?”

“It’s not that I don’t understand, Mister J, but this woman…” There was a pause.  “She…”

“She _what_?”

“…she said she’s Harley’s sister.”


	17. Chapter 17

Harley woke up, for maybe the second time that day. It was another case where she didn’t exactly remember falling asleep, but what happened was still very much fresh in her mind, especially upon lifting her eyelids to discover the big sides of some steel grey walls, but she was no longer tied down to a wheelchair and had been subsequently moved to some kind of stretcher, though she was dismayed to find she was still bound, yet with tighter materials than zip-ties this time.

All this was enough to remember, it wouldn’t take science to figure out that she was back in the grimy hands of the people she’d dreamed she’d never have to look at ever again. On the plus side, she wasn’t aching too badly anymore, and it only looked like her hands and feet were tied down. Nothing was stopping her from sitting up and surveying her surroundings. From the looks of things, it looked like she could be in a room of sorts, but the more she woke up, began to realize that whatever she was in, was moving.

So not a room, she was in a van. Whatever drug they’d given her must’ve worn off just a tad rapid, but she couldn’t tell which part of the city they were in, exactly. She couldn’t spot any windows from her spot, so she attempted to sit up, only to find she couldn’t. Her back arched on her and it felt like something was pinning her head down, though tried as she might to look up the best she could, she couldn’t figure out what. They were really taking every pre-caution this time, weren’t they?

Not that she was shocked. She never expected Waller to welcome her back with open arms, nor did she ever want to be welcomed back. No part of her could ever have known that this would happen, that any of this would happen. She’d never counted on getting pregnant, she would’ve been content to be back with Mister J in the nine months they’d been looking for her; at least, maybe she’d have a bigger chance of being saved. If that were the case, he would’ve no doubt have found out about her being taken and instantly began tracking down whatever vehicle she was being transported in.

That wasn’t the case this time, though. He probably had no idea where she even was.

This made her heart sink, and she stopped trying to sit up, settling back onto the stretcher although unwittingly. She almost wanted to cry as it really settled in on her mind…this would be different from the other times, wouldn’t it? He’d made it very clear he wasn’t interested in raising his own daughter, why would he waste the time and resources to find her now? The second a news report broke out that she’d been arrested again, he’d no doubt be thrilled. That would mean a guarantee she wouldn’t becoming back into his life with the baggage that was their child.

_What’d you expect, Harley?_

Above her, she could almost see someone staring down at her. Her own face, though less pale, and more solemn. Black-rimmed glasses and wavy blonde hair in a bun, and the expression of a disappointed parent on her face. She didn’t open her mouth, yet Harley could hear her voice, blinking up at the lesser version of herself.

_Did you really think you could get away with this façade forever? It was only a matter of time before they found us._

**_Stop that. This isn’t the worst situation we’ve gotten into before; we’ll figure this out._ **

_Figure it out how? We did a great job figuring out how to get of prison ourselves. Face it, Harls; we’re fucked. He’s not coming to get us, and he doesn’t care._

The Harleen-hallucination disappeared, leaving Harley as she pathetically croaked; though it was an attempt at a sob, it came out sounding like a frog who’d gotten a fly stuck in its throat. This noise alerted someone, apparently, as she heard the screeching of a chair as it was pushed towards her. Unable to turn her head, even, she sucked back her sobs as she inched her eyes to the side, almost simultaneously rolling them back when she realized the individual she’d alerted was Amanda Waller.

**_Bitch, do not even talk to me right now…_ **

But unfortunately for Harley, it didn’t look like Waller would be intent on leaving her alone right now. In fact, she’d set aside the tablet she’d been perusing and had moved her seat entirely to where Harley was positioned on the stretcher, crossing one leg over the other and looking very perplexed, and almost satisfied, at the sight of the former clown queen so distraught. How did she take such delight in this; it was as if she ate other people’s misery for lunch. With a side of despair and anguish, of course.

“Ah, you’re awake. Have a nice nap?” Waller was asking, and although by now, Harley had managed to calm herself down from her sobs, yet she gave no answer. She didn’t even look at Waller, only keeping her gaze focused ahead on the pair of wide doors at the end of the van. Probably locked up and bolted tight, even if she wasn’t tied up, there’d be no possible way to get out of this thing. Any other day she’d willingly break a bone to get free and launch herself out of the nearest exit, but she’d just gotten out of the hospital. Now was hardly the time to be doing stunt jumps.

She heard Waller’s stiff chuckle, almost like the woman had been offended that Harley didn’t answer her.

“I’m not apologizing for any of that, Quinn. You were supposed to be taking it easy, I thought the sedative might help.” she stated. Although Harley still didn’t give her the benefit of seeing her puffy red eyes, she took a deep breath to drown out any shakiness in her voice and attempted to sound as venomous as possible.

“So, what? You’re suddenly a fuckin’ doctor?” she spat, earning another stiff chuckle from Waller. The other woman uncrossed her legs, leaning forward in her seat as she clasped her hands together beneath her.

“No, I believe that was you. I have read your entire file, after all.” That was a point that almost sent Harleen surging back into Harley’s mind, but she pushed it off. She didn’t need to endure two bitches right now, one was surely enough. Harleen had her turn already, she could wait to play again. She seemed to like being reminded of being a doctor, but it was nothing Harley cared about at all. That was a piece of her past that was gone now.

“That’s not who I am anymore…” she mumbled, scrunching her fingers and nails up against the leather of the stretcher. “Harleen Quinzel is dead.”

She still didn’t glance over entirely, but she was sure Waller was giving her a doubtful look.  She wouldn’t be the first person to have given Harley a look after what she’d just said; she’d repeated it several times over to Bats, as a confirmation to the Joker, to herself. Though in reality, she knew it was a lie. Harleen was still there; somewhere, within her mind. She slipped out sometimes, when she talked, and it was almost always unintentional.

“Somehow I doubt that.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Waller retrieving her tablet from nearby. “If that was the case, and had I had my way, you’d be going straight back to Belle Reve right now. Unfortunately, we can’t all get what we want…”

_Not going to Belle Reve?_

That was almost a Christmas miracle, as fishy as it sounded. Sure, she didn’t want to go back to that rathole; but that only left a couple of other options. Unless Waller was just giving her a free ride home, which was not likely.

Harley inched her vision as far she could Amanda’s way, watching as the woman scrolled through her tablet. Their eyes met as Waller looked up, and it was almost like she could read Harley’s mind, because she spoke before she even had a chance to say anything.

“No, don’t think you’re getting out of this scot-free.” she firmly stated, lowering the tablet. “You’re still going to be behind bars, I’m not about to let you slip away from me again.”

“Aw come on, Mandy. Would it be that hard to pull some strings?” Harley flashed an obnoxious smile Amanda’s way, annoyed she still couldn’t fully turn her head. “I promise I’ll be good this time!”

As to be expected, Waller wasn’t amused, only silently glaring at her before going back to her tablet. Whatever it was that she was doing must’ve been important if she couldn’t be bothered to set it down, even if it was just to glare at Harley.

“Don’t think that’s going to work with me, Harley Quinn. After the shit you pulled ten months ago, you have yet to show me that you’re actually willing to ‘ _behave_ ’.” God, the spite was heavy in her tone. “Unless of course, that was your idea of behaving, because it cost me. Do you know how long it took me to track all your friends down?”

“Apparently a very long time since you just now found me.”

“Oh, trust me, I had every intention of finding you first.” Waller shot back, finally setting her tablet back into a small black bag that sat on the floor. “Unfortunately for me, your boyfriend seemed to have you under and lock and key from the minute you got out, not to mention your suddenly going off the radar…it puzzled me, I’ll admit. But now that I’ve actually found you…I can see exactly why you disappeared.”

Harley felt a shudder go down her spine as Waller’s eyes locked onto her bump. Had her hands not been tied down, she would’ve instinctively held them over her stomach, as if that would somehow shield her child from having to have this evil woman look at her.

“Yeah well, life happens…” she said nonchalantly, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. A minute ago, she was fully ready to let Waller have it, but she’d already made some kind of direction towards her daughter, that was enough on its own, to make her shiver, and for any self-confidence to melt. It wasn’t enough to fool Waller, however, because she only smirked and moved her chair closer to the stretcher, like she’d sensed Harley’s alarm towards her comment.

_She had, of course she had._

If she ate despair for lunch, she definitely ate other people’s weaknesses for breakfast.

“So, it does…I’m sorry if I haven’t offered my congratulations yet.” _Stop sounding so calm, oh my god._ “But I did have to make sure everyone at Arkham knew about your predicaments, just so the proper arrangements could be made. Don’t say I didn’t ever do anything for you.”

Well, now she knew why Waller had been so pre-occupied with her tablet, at least—wait. _Arkham?!_ **_That’s_** where she was going?

She should’ve known, she should’ve figured it out the second Waller said she wasn’t going to Belle Reve. There’d only be one other place that anyone would dream of locking her up, and Arkham was it. How ironic would it be; to be trapped within the walls of the place she’d arrived at two years ago, young and full of dreams. Only this time she’d be the one in the straightjacket.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Why…why in the ever-loving hell are you carting me over to that nuthouse?” Harley asked, bewildered. _Why wouldn’t she be carting you back there, Harley? You’re a certified nutso. Not to mention you’re wanted in over thirty states._ “I thought you’d be eager to throw me back in Belle Reve.”

“I was, and I still am. I’m still short one team member, anyways.” Amanda reminded her, crossing her arms as she relaxed back in her seat. The van hit a bump on the road, but she didn’t even seem to be bothered by it, despite being jostled briefly. “If I’d had my way, I would’ve seen to it myself you’d be put in the darkest cell possible, with only rats for company.”

“And let me guess, you’d have the guards throw bread crumbs down for me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”  Without a beat, she responded. So, she still didn’t know to take a joke, apparently. “But, as it goes, your little friend in the bat suit decided to intervene and convinced me to let you stay in Arkham for the time being.”

“Bats got in on this?” At this, Harley had to chuckle. Careful as she’d been these nine months, she’d forgotten the city had basically placed Batman as “the world’s greatest detective”. Somehow, she’d hoped she’d manage to stay of his way, fat lot of good that had done her.

“Yes. He’s the one who tipped me off about your whereabouts.” Waller said. “I was fully ready to have you sent back to Belle Reve, but he insisted you be put in that godforsaken asylum, instead for some reason. He thinks there’s still a part of you that can be redeemed.”

“Yeah? Well he’s wrong. Twelve doctors and a cat could easily tell you that.” That was nothing she kidded about. She’d stayed at Arkham once or twice over the years, off and on; often she and Mister J would pass off turns and break each other out, and see who could drive the most doctors and nurses crazy. In that time, she’d seen and driven away a total of twelve doctors, plus a therapy cat that one doctor had brought in for one session. Harley had really had nothing against the animal, she just thought it’d be funny to see the doctor’s reaction.

Joker still had her beat, though. Even he didn’t know how many doctors he’d seen by now.

“He still thinks so. He made me promise I’d arrange for you to see a doctor during your stay, and to make sure things would be…” The van hit another bump as it seemed to be turning a corner. “...more comfortable. Apparently, he didn’t think prison would be the best place for someone in your condition to stay.”

**_Incredible; so, Batman really does care?_ **

_No, probably not. He still wants you locked up, after all._

Harley grumbled in response to Harleen’s voice, and squirmed, the baby having now decided to start furiously kicking in fear. She didn’t blame her; so long, the only voices this kid had known was her mother’s, her god-mother’s, and the other people around her; those voices had obviously been kinder and not as…cruel as Waller’s. Her voice was enough to frighten even the toughest individual, so it was no shock that even an unborn child would also be terrified.

“Hey, Mandy? Mind toning it down a bit, you’re freaking my kid out.” She bitterly implored, but Waller didn’t even seem to hear her.

“I didn’t agree with him, naturally, but he refused to tell me where you were until I’d relent.” she continued on, “I feel like I should mention, though; I only agreed to let you stay in Arkham until you give birth. I have every intention of putting you back on Task Force X, whether you like it or not.”

Harley stopped squirming. Slowly, her gaze went halfway back to the other side of the stretcher, towards the older woman.

“Are you…serious? You think I’d do that—go back, willingly?!” she objected, loud enough for her voice to bounce off the sides of the van.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice.”

“Like hell I don’t! You can’t reactivate that shit in my neck, Mister J had it taken out of me the minute we got back home.” _That had not been a fun night._ “The only team I’m planning to join is the mommy team, I already vowed ages ago I’d never let myself get roped back into your circus.”

“I expected that. Yet, here we are.” Waller’s smirk surprisingly didn’t return at this statement, she only raised her eyebrows. She moved, getting up from her seat, which was probably not even a safe move at this present time given that the van was still moving. A very dark, very intimidating sheen was in the other woman’s eyes, as she stared down straight at Harley, and Harley was beginning to wonder if this was why her head was tied down. Tried as she might, looking away, looking forward, to the side, she couldn’t avoid Waller’s gaze. Closing her eyes would only mean she’d been intimidated, and she wasn’t about to let her have that satisfaction.

“Let me make one thing, very, _very_ clear, Quinn…I could give a rat’s ass of if you see a doctor or not…” She spoke softly, low enough but rough enough to get her point across. “…but I promise you, as soon as you’re able to have that mistake of yours, I will personally see to it that you spend the rest of your life in the coldest, loneliest cage possible, and that your daughter will never know you are.”

She was close; far too close, almost eye to eye with Harley. Harley was sure she could see some veins bulging somewhere on her face; even though she wasn’t yelling, she sure as heck was very, very angry. And with good reason, considering how no thanks to Harley and Joker’s actions, her team had been vastly dismantled and she’d had to spend so much of her resources just to pull them back together.

How sadly hilarious.

Even though some of her was all but quaking at Waller and her actions, not to mention her words, Harley made no visible reaction to her threats and instead, just offered her a blank look. On the inside, she was absolutely livid towards the woman’s remark about her daughter being a “mistake”, and the lack of mentioning of what would happen to her after her mother was locked away, but she had to keep face.

“Ya know…” she mused, a teensy, spiteful smile marking her features. “When I first saw you, I asked if you were the devil…”

She eyed Waller again, to reaffirm her next word choices.

“…now, I can believe it.”

An answer like this was clearly what Waller liked hearing. She, too, gave no visible reaction, and just leaned in a bit closer, her mouth a tight line.

“Good.” she sneered.

As she backed away from Harley to take her seat, the van came to an abrupt halt. How she managed to not fall over was incredible, but Harley couldn’t even snicker at that. Not when the panic was really starting to settle within her, not after everything she was just told. This was everything that she didn’t want to happen; everything she’d hoped, prayed, wouldn’t happen. There was now the very real possibility that she’d never get to hold her daughter, this possibility sinking in even further the second the doors to the van were swung open by Big Guy, who in-turn stepped aside for a pair of orderlies to hop into the vehicle.

Inadvertently, Harley began to squirm again; not only because the baby was kicking horribly, but because she too, would have gladly kicked away these guys had she had the capability of doing so. She instead just wriggled there, almost like a toy with dying batteries, whimpering and screaming as each orderly grabbed ahold of the stretcher and began pulling it out of the van. Just to make things worse, they turned the stretcher so that she could face Waller’s cold expression as she was wheeled out.

“You—god! You’re a real snake, Amanda Waller! I don’t take back what I said!” she screamed, wriggling even more furiously the further she was carted to the entrance. She could see Arkham looming just above her, tall walls and all; and its ghastly sight was doing absolutely nothing to ease her.

Naturally, Waller didn’t respond. Her smirk did return, however, and she simply waved at Harley, before getting up and shutting the van doors. Harley kept screaming, wriggling, until her wrists and throat were sore, only stopping because a sudden pain in her ribs. She hadn’t realized, that, by now; even the baby had stopped kicking.  That one little kick…it was a caution, a warning for her mother to stop.

_She must’ve known._

She must’ve known that this all this was worthless. That no amount of screaming or struggling would be enough to free themselves. But even that wasn’t enough to make Harley stop; her child wasn’t even born yet, of course she wasn’t willing to fight just yet.

Little did she know how fierce her mama was.

She wasn’t about to be carted in easily; not like those other times where she’d be laughing, or singing some off-color nursery rhyme. She kept screaming, thrashing the best she could, and the baby kept delivering one solo kick after another to her mother’s ribs, almost begging her stop.

_It’s pointless, it’s pointless—even she thinks it’s pointless. She’s smarter than you._

As expected, the orderlies weren’t even phased by her screaming, probably since that this wasn’t their first rodeo with a screaming patient, or their first rodeo with her, to be fair. The doors to the asylum opened and shut, giving off a loud clang. Harley’s screams continued as she was carted down the long, winding hallway. The familiar cries and yells of the other patients joined hers in unison, but oddly enough, it was all quiet to her. She could only hear own screaming, her own swears, the strings of insults she was throwing out. Eventually the orderlies seemed to have had enough, because one of them was shoving some kind of mask over her face. A horrid, putrid scent filled her nostrils, and her screams transitioned into wheezes, her eyes fluttering violently.

Soon, the only screams left were those of the patients. When the orderlies removed the mask, Harley had gone silent. She had no time to fight off unconsciousness; god knows she was sick of passing out, she’d already passed out two consecutive times this week; this would be round three.

_It was her own fault…if only she’d calmed down._

No, she didn’t want to calm down. Wasn’t about to. Not with everything that was going through her mind now. But, no thanks to the anesthetic, she couldn’t wriggle anymore, or scream. She could only lay there, trying so hard to stay awake, try to figure out what was going on. If she stayed awake, she could see where they were taking her, maybe figure something out.

_It’d be pointless. We aren’t getting out of here._

**_Shut it! We’ve gotten out plenty of times!_ **

_Yeah, but we had Mister J, then, didn’t we? And he doesn’t care about you right now, last time I checked._

Harleen’s words echoed, unending, fading, as Harley’s eyes dropped shut. One singular tear managed to escape before her lids completely shut, and trickled down her cheek.

* * *

 

On the other side of Gotham, the Joker stepped out of the van, not wasting a single second in his trek to the penthouse. Ivy and Frost followed close behind him, though had to speed up their pace in order to keep up with the clown’s quick galivanting. It was like he was a game that was on a speed-three setting, had been ever since receiving Tim’s phone call during their visit to Harley’s now empty apartment. That visit had proved to be anything but fruitless, and any means of finding out her whereabouts now had to be on hold on the fact that someone claiming to be her sister was at their home?

_And he thought anything that come back to him last night had been confusing._

He was trying to wrap his head around it; it wasn’t like he didn’t remember Harley ever mentioning a sister, it was just, she’d never spoken of her family in a very favorable manner. The first time he’d asked her was during one of their sessions, when she had very curiously asked him if he had any family members. He’d batted around the question, as per usual, and repeated the same question back to her.

She hadn’t wanted to answer at first, until he’d insisted that since it was fair that she’d asked a question, it was only fair that he’d get to ask something. It was a little policy they’d set up and she couldn’t really argue with it, so with a heavy sigh and a shrug, she’d told him.

_“There’s not much to talk about. My dad was a deadbeat who could never hold a job, and my mom was an ex-schoolteacher.” she’d said, taking her glasses off. After a moment, she added; “Ex-schoolteacher turned alcoholic, that is. How do you think she lost her job?”_

_He’d laughed at this. Even Harleen had chuckled a little bit._

_“Yeah, it sounds funny on paper, doesn’t it? In real life though, that was…” She’d paused, almost hesitant to dwell on the subject even further. “Well, it’s always going to be different in real life, I guess.”_

_“What about siblings, doc? Ya got any of those?”_

_More hesitation. She’d nervously played with her pen for a second, clicking it up and down._

_“…yeah, I guess. If you could call them that.”_

It was one of those conversations he remembered crystal clear; especially since it was it was the first of his many mind games, his first move towards unravelling her mind.

_She’d kept fidgeting with her pen, he remembered…pushing several strands of hair out of her face while she spoke. She’d also been wearing a very cute shade of lipstick that session, he remembered…alongside a lowcut blouse. Quite the distracting sight she’d been…_

Through some gentle prodding, he had slowly become the therapist himself the more they talked, getting her to open up a bit about her siblings. Two siblings, she said she had. One brother, Trent, who was pretty much your definition of a typical school bully complete with heavy acne and a motor mouth. He’d been her chief tormentor throughout her entire childhood, and last she’d checked, he was still living at home with their mother. Her other sibling, an older sister…her name slipped his mind, but she’d been kicked out of the house when she was sixteen. Harley hadn’t seen her since she herself was eleven years old, but she was really the only family member she’d seemed to remember fondly.

Everyone else, she disregarded with major disdain.

Sometimes Joker had asked Harley if she ever wanted to pay her family a little “visit”, and by visit he was suggesting the same things that he’d done after his chemical plunge. These things being him seeking out anyone and anything from his old life, before promptly getting rid of them. He’d insisted, saying that she needed this as a means to completely destroy what was left of her old life.

But she hadn’t wanted to.

It confused him as to why she hadn’t wanted to, never wanted to, she’d seemed to speak with so much venom towards her family that you’d almost think she’d jump at the chance to nail them to the floorboards. He’d personally love to do it himself, but he knew there’d be no chance of forgiveness if Harley had suddenly decided she wanted to get in on it. She’d be downright pissed if she was left out of it.

But there was also this possibility, that this person Tim had been talking about, might be the sister she was talking about. It just seemed too fishy in Joker’s eyes, that she’d just up and pop into the picture from seemingly out of nowhere. At what time had she decided, and why now?

The Joker strolled straight to huge elevator on the other side of the room, and was about to hit the button for the second floor until Ivy and Frost quickly rushed in. He eyed them and hit the button, the elevator doors shutting as the trio began to move upwards. Upon reaching their destination, all three exited. Only elevator music played, being the only present and audible noise in the small transport, as everyone inside stayed quiet. Joker’s mind was racing into various places, and Frost knew better than to bother him when he was thinking like this. Ivy on the other hand, had been nothing but shooting him suspicious looks the entire ride back from the apartment. It was bothering her; his sudden attitude about finding Harley. She’d been so sure he was going to try something again, but he seemed genuinely bothered the more she looked at him.

It was almost…scary. Like she wasn’t usually so scared by his antics, but seeing real alarm on his face after they’d not found Harley was really beginning to weigh on her own mind. Could he be that genuine about wanting her back? There was still the question of what would happen to the baby, but now was clearly not the best time to ask when they had yet another issue to deal with.

Upon their arrival at the second floor, the doors opened and all three of them exited, though stopping halfway into the hall. Joker shrugged his coat off and hung it over his arm, moving to place it on a coatrack, which bore several golden engravings. The dinging of the elevator as it closed its doors had apparently alerted Tim to their arrival, as the young man instantaneously rushed into the hall, looking very much frazzled and very much frustrated.

“Boss, thank God. That woman’s still here.” he said, clearly having been through a lot of hell in the time that they’d been gone. “She’s been asking questions and I—god, I didn’t know what I was going to do!”

“Well for one thing you can quit whining.” Joker snapped, moving away from the coatrack. “Take five and get a drink or some shit.”

Tim nodded, and almost all too eagerly departed from the group. The Joker lay his cane against the wall and turned to Frost.

“Johnny, go pull up the records of every hospital admittance in the last 24 hours.” He ordered.  “Since I’m going to be otherwise occupied, I’m going to count on you to find out what I need to know. Look for anything out of the ordinary, anything that might tell us where Harley is.”

“Got it, Mister J.” Frost left, heading off into a nearby room that Ivy could see was filled with computers, at least, that’s what she could see before Frost shut the door. Joker was already headed to the living room but she caught up with him quickly, running in front of him.

“Hey, wait a second.”

 “What?”

“About earlier…at the apartment…” _How could she word this without sounding like it was an apology…?_   “I didn’t think you cared that much about finding Harley, yet you were ready to cut up an old lady all because she had a bad memory…”

“Yeah? Last time I checked that kind of behavior is the norm for me.” He insisted, attempting to step past Ivy. She didn’t follow, instead glaring after him.

“So, what if it is? That still doesn’t tell me anything, Joker.”  He didn’t stop walking. “I want to know what’s really going on. What’s with the sudden need to have Harley back, you had plenty of chances before now. Why wait so long?”

Now he stopped. His head lowered momentarily, he turned back to look at her, a strangely serious look on his face, in his eyes.

“I told you…I needed time to think.”

“That’s bullshit—” Ivy persisted, running up after him. She wasn’t about to accept that for an answer, but it was clear that that was the only answer he was willing to give her, the only one he wanted to give her. Poison Ivy was not an individual he cared to have serious talks with, not when she’d probably misinterpret everything he said because of her hatred for him.  His treatment of Harley didn’t help to soften the blow either, so he opted to being quiet the more they continued on their journey to the next room.

They both soon stepped into the living room, and anything Ivy had been trying to say was cut off by the sight of a blonde woman, who was standing with her back turned to them. She was surveying a large piece of art on the wall, either that or the vase beneath it. Not either piece of entirely stunning to look at, but people tended to look at very odd things when they were waiting.

On top of that, she seemed to be chuckling to herself.

Ivy opted to staying back, she hadn’t actually expected to see anyone here when they got back. That, and she didn’t care to get near or between anyone and Joker. Things could get rough in here really quick if the wrong things were said.

“This thing’s ridiculous…I could’ve gotten a poster of this for like, ten bucks…” The woman was saying, as Joker slowly approached. He wasn’t being cautious for anyone’s sake but his own; he was still very much wary of who this woman could possibly be. It still seemed weird she’d just reappear like this, and he couldn’t help but inspect her up and down as he came over.  Judging by her apparel, she must’ve been well off; she wore a pair of flowy grey pants, alongside a white sweater which was accompanied by a jacket with cargo pockets.

His intent survey of her was interrupted as she unexpectedly turned around, her arms firmly crossed. She had a sly smile on her lips, which shockingly didn’t go away as she looked at Joker.

“Unless of course, you’re willing to part with the real deal, itself. I could use some new décor for my office.” she said.

_What?_

It was insane, she was acting way too comfortable for having just seen one of Gotham’s most feared and wanted criminals right in front of her. Yet she’d just turned to him and spoken like he was some retail employee.

Looking between her and the painting, he snorted and crossed his own arms.

“You could never afford it.”

“Like you can?” She laughed, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. “Don’t think I’m that stupid; I recognize this piece. It was on display at Gotham’s Art Museum for two years before it got stolen. It was all over the news…something about, these clowns, who were caught on security removing it from its frame.”

She stepped up a bit closer, tipping her head. He sneered, oh, he did not like the way she was looking at him. It was already too early to be acting so coy, especially towards him, though Ivy did seem a bit amused at how forward this woman was being with him. She’d barely known him for a whole minute and was showing more gusto than any other criminals had dared show in his presence. Everyone had made some assumption of that painting before, and had strangely shut up about it several minutes later.

It was a miracle he hadn’t pulled those same tactics on this woman yet.

He too, stepped closer to her. Holding up a warning finger, he was about to respond, when the woman turned around and went straight back to looking at the rest of the expensive décor in the room, sighing to herself.

“And all this…I gotta ask, how much of this stuff did you actually pay for?” she asked, furthermore instigating Joker’s irritation. He wanted to storm after her, but only stepped up behind the sofa, resting his fists atop it.

“That’s not anything I’m about to tell you.” he retorted. “How about you cut the chit chat and tell me who you are? One of my guys called me over here because you were refusing to leave, and unless you start talking, I’ll see to it myself that you’re escorted out.”

The woman stopped walking around, and turned around to look at him. She didn’t seem too alarmed by his threat, though her smile was long gone, her expression having closed up.

“I thought you would’ve known. You’re the one with my sister, after all.” Her arms still folded, she began heading back to him, slowly. “I’d have thought she’d tell you everything.”

“I gave you one warning to cut the chit-chat, lady. You get one more chance.” Joker narrowed his eyes at the woman as she stopped in front of him. “Who the _fuck_ are you?” 

Ivy was still watching the scene unfold nearby, in complete silence. She wasn’t regretting her decision to be standing back this far from them, but even she was getting somewhat annoyed at this woman’s beating around the bush. She’d done good enough having to deal with Edward Nygma’s riddles back in Arkham, she didn’t need any repeats of those days.

The woman’s arms unfolded. Her expression was still closed, though there was a tiny spark of something in her eyes.

“Melissa.” _Finally, an answer._ “My name’s Melissa.”

  ** _Melissa._**

Aha, he remembered now. That’s what her sister’s name had been; though, she’d referred to her more as “Lissy”.

_“Lissy and Leeny. We had our own nicknames for each other.” Harleen had softly giggled, tapping her pen against the desk. “It was a bit silly, I guess. I always thought she had a prettier name than me and she always thought mine was more unique, so we ended up calling each other by our nicknames most of the time.”_

“Melissa…what?”

“…Quinzel, of course. Like there was any question?”

“Oh, I think there’s plenty of question.” The Joker tapping his fingers against the couch, eyeing Melissa very doubtfully. “Because somehow, I don’t feel too inclined to take your word for it.”

“Yeah, I thought you would.”  Melissa reached into her purse, pulling out her wallet. “See, this is why I came prepared…”

She flipped it open and revealed her license, handing it over for the Joker to inspect. It was bewildering him how casual she was acting around him, but he had to admit she had more guts than any clients he’d talked to before. So, he took the license from her and looked it over. It displayed her full name, only, her last name was shown as “Keaton”, instead of “Quinzel”. The Joker scrunched his nose up at it and stepped back, handing her wallet back to her.

“That says Keaton. Harley’s last name was Quinzel.”

A flush crept up onto Melissa’s cheeks, probably out of annoyance or the lot, snatching the wallet back.

“I’m divorced.” she stated. “It just hasn’t been finalized yet.”

“Oh, well how fucking convenient, then.”   Joker all but narrowed his eyes, as Ivy decided to walk up next to him. Melissa scowled, stuffing the wallet back into her purse before slinging it over her shoulder.

“I’m not lying, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” she spat. “Look, I just came here to find my baby sister, if all you’re going to do is interrogate me then you’ll get your wish—I’ll leave. I’ve given you plenty of proof, what more do you need?”

“Don’t ask him things like that, we’ll be here all day.” Ivy warned dryly, Joker growling under his breath next to her. “I think she’s given us plenty of proof, Joker, what’s the holdup?”

“The holdup, my dear, is this—” Joker spun from the couch, widening his stance as he paced his way closer to Melissa, shooting her yet another doubtful expression. “I’m just finding it a little suspicious she’s decided to appear around the same time Harley went missing. Forgive me if I’m not willing to welcome my in-laws with open arms.”

“Funny you should say that, I’m also finding it suspicious too.” Ivy mentioned, “Yeah, suspicious that you’re suddenly seeking her out after nine months. You really haven’t answered my question regarding that.”

“Christ—are we really going to do this right now? I told you—”

“Hold the phone!” Melissa interrupted both of them, the pitch in her voice notably rising. Part of her looked angry, part worried, as she clasped both her hands together. “What exactly is going on? What do you mean my sister’s missing?”

“What we mean is, that Romeo here knocked her up and kicked her out a few months ago.” Alarm bells went off in Joker’s mind and he shook both hands at Ivy, attempting a rather-silent shush through the clenching of his teeth. Naturally, she ignored him, feeling all too satisfied at the sight of Melissa’s angry expression overtaking her worry.

“That’s—that’s a little harsh, Pam, I didn’t plan on kicking her out for the entire nine months—” Joker started but Ivy held her hand up.

“Save the speech, I’m really not in the mood for any more of your faux excuses.” she retorted. She turned to Melissa. “Look, Mel, —”

“Melissa. And I’m sorry, just who are you?”

“Your sister’s best friend, that’s who.” Ivy affirmed, taking a step towards the other woman. “Look, this has already been an off-day so far, and normally I have a very heavy disdain for other humans, but because you’re related to Harley, I’ll try my best to play nice. I don’t know exactly why you’re looking for Harley now, randomly, of all times, but we’re not going to be getting anywhere unless you give Joker what he wants.”

She stepped back, looking over at the Joker.

“He wants proof, go ahead. Humor him.”

Good space was now between the Joker and Melissa. Melissa herself looked quite uncertain as her eyes shifted around the room, and she huffed, shoving her hands into her pockets, shrugging.

“Okay…alright. What kind of proof do you want?” she asked. 

Man, if the fact she wasn’t already willing to comply wasn’t proof enough that she was related to Harley, Ivy didn’t know what was. But she kept quiet, as she felt her part in this conversation was over and she was now more than willing to step back and let these two duke it out. The Joker had walked in here ready to kick this woman out, but now, as he stood across from her, he looked like he was seriously thinking on her question. Not that he himself hadn’t been impressed by her willingness to cooperate, but that just wasn’t going to cut it. There was no way he was willingly about to discuss anything with this woman unless he was sure.

He’d known in the past, not to take people’s word for anything. Except…Harley maybe…with the machine gun incident. He’d taken her word for everything since then. Playing this game with Melissa might just be the key to killing time until Frost found out where Harley possibly was…at least then, maybe he could get a real confirmation on her relation to this woman.

For now, he had to give her the question she was expecting. Hands still in her pockets, she stood some ways in front of him with patient eyes, rocking back and forth on her heels. Joker ambled just a tad closer, his mouth set in a hard line. What proof…what proof did he want, was a very good question. Names weren’t any good, and she probably didn’t come in here wielding any old photographs…maybe if she’d really wanted to be convincing, that might have been the wiser option instead of hoping she could fool someone with her license.

_Aha._

He had just the ticket.

“Tell me something about Harley.” He traced his hand against the armrest of the sofa as he stopped near her. “If you’re who you say you are…”

“I am!”

“Quiet. If you’re so insistent in what you’re saying, then you must know somethings about Harley, hm?” He was all but leering closely towards her, enough to where he noticed a muscle in her jaw clenching just ever so slightly. His mouth twitched, one corner somewhat lifting, and he clasped his hands together, forming a rather clumped steeple with his fingers.  “I don’t think it would be too much of me to ask…if you could tell me something that you know about her.”

“I can do that.” A tiny spark in Melissa’s eyes lit up, though he swore that he could’ve seen just an inkling of fear there just a minute ago. Now it was replaced by the determination that she’d walked in here with. “I can do that, I—”

“I wasn’t finished.” Joker cut her off, hands unclasping. The other corner of his mouth now lifted, he now wore one of his infamous smiles, that he only ever often put on in the most special circumstances. Now wasn’t an entirely special circumstance, but he couldn’t help himself. Sometimes…it just came on out of instinct. “Y’see, there’s a catch…it has to be something that not only you know about her, but something that I also know about her. In short…it has to be something we are both aware of.”

He stepped back, taking in the sight of the determination melting from the woman’s face.  She looked fully ready to protest, and Ivy was almost willing to beat her to the punch, but she knew better than to get involved in one of these situations. Any business Joker had was nothing she worried too much about, she was more concerned as to what was taking Frost so long to find anything out about Harley. The sooner they had her back here, the better, else someone was going to end up dead.

Knowing fully well that this conversation pretty much didn’t involve her anymore, she discreetly slipped away from the two currently-very distracted individuals and went off in search of Frost’s whereabouts. Surely, he’d have to have found something out by now. As to be expected, neither Joker or Melissa had seemed to notice her exit, Joker currently awaiting to see what Melissa’s next words would be, whilst she herself just seemed to be internally fumbling where she stood.

Clearly, she hadn’t come here as prepared as she thought she had. Removing her hands from her pockets, she wrapped them around herself and shifted where she stood, her feet-rocking looking like it wasn’t anywhere near coming to a halt.

“Okay…okay, fine. I’m not saying that that’s fair but…what the hell…” she grumbled, scratching at her nose. “I’ve not seen my sister since she was eleven years old, what are you expecting me to know?”

“If you can’t figure anything out then you’ve already answered my question.” The Joker stated. “You get three strikes; three chances. Blow any of ‘em, and we’ll part ways as unrelated in-laws. Does _that_ sound fair?”

No, it didn’t. Not to any sane person. Melissa didn’t look ready to answer, looking like she was just thrown into a test she didn’t study for. But that was the thing with Joker’s tests; all the studying in the world wouldn’t prepare you for them. She thought she’d come here prepared, yet here she was; dumbfounded.

Her jaw clenching, she seemed to be really giving this some serious thought the longer she stood there, the longer he waited. Pushing an awry hair strand back from her face, Melissa blew out a sigh, letting her arms drop loosely in an exasperated manner.

“Alright…alright, how about this…she um...” She wasn’t sounding very confident, especially with how low her tone sounded. “She…always hated her name, and thought mine was prettier. So, I ended up calling her Leeny a lot of the time.”

Joker pressed his lips together and shook his head. That wasn’t a bad answer per say; nor an entirely awful one, but it wasn’t the one he wanted despite also knowing this fact. It was simply too easy of an answer for her to give. 

“Try again.”

“What? Come on, there’s no way she didn’t tell you that—”

“ _Try again.”_ He repeated himself, voice gravelly. Melissa’s jaw went slack; again, she looked about ready to protest, but wisely decided not to. She furled and unfurled her fists as she thought, and turned away from Joker.

“Surely you must know your sister better than that, Melissa…” He spoke from behind her, hands gripping the top of the sofa as he strolled behind it. “That was just too easy of an answer to give me; I’m looking for something else. Something that really proves you know her. Think—think hard, look into that middle-class brain of yours; was something ever off about your little sister, was there something you ever noticed about her that was…peculiar?”

If Melissa had been turned around, he would’ve seen her eyes light up. It was like he’d just struck a nerve in her mind, because her fidgeting stopping; her fists stopped unfurling, and she turned around to face him once more. Quietly traversing across the room, her own eyes scanning Joker up and down. Her mouth hung agape, as she fought to find any possible words to say.

“She…she was afraid…” _There it was._  “She hated her name, because our parents didn’t care when they gave to her. She used her nickname as a means of escaping her embarrassment…and started putting on a face. She was always smiling at the worst times, and anytime I asked her…”

Her breathing sounded hard the more she spoke, Joker just silently observing her from his place behind the sofa.

“Anytime I asked her…she’d tell me nothing was wrong, that she was fine.” Melissa blinked, small tears welling up in her eyes. “But I knew she was lying, that she was just putting on a front. Not with how much our mother looked down on her, not after all the shit Trent put her through…”

Her journey across the living room stopped at the sofa, the only thing that separated both her and the Joker. Her eyes stopped scanning him, and instead, she just stared. Hard, long, the tears now very prominent in her misty eyes.

“I was always scared it would make her become someone else…someone she wasn’t supposed to be.” Her voice trembled, as did her hands. “Like…like she’d grow up, and put on a mask. That she’d pretend she was okay her whole life…and somehow, that would be her undoing. That she’d never find her true self.”

Joker said nothing as Melissa swallowed the huge lump that was no doubt forming in her throat. Well, it’d be a lie to say he’d been expecting this kind of answer. Up until now, he’d settled in this being a rouse; someone trying to poke fun at Harley’s disappearance by further taunting him, pretending to be related. But no one would say those things about an individual unless they really knew them…not to say that he was 100% convinced after that performance.

“Tell me something, Joker…” His fingernails dug into the sofa’s fabric as Melissa spoke, a small, almost desperate smile creeping its way onto her face. “…You probably know Leeny better than I do, huh? Can you tell me if she let that happen to her? If she ever found her true self?”

_True self._

The Joker gave Melissa a once-over, his eyes flashing. Okay, maybe he was 99% convinced now, either Melissa was being genuine or she was a good actress. But her question posed several possible answers; had Harley found her true self? Of course, with his help—but it was debatable, was the merry murderess who she was always intended to be? Life held many pathways, that had just been the one she decided to go down.

And it couldn’t have been more perfect for her.

“…yes. Yes, she has.” he said, though it didn’t even feel like his own voice had come out of him, with how serious and genuine it sounded. Sure, sounding genuine wasn’t a problem, but seriousness…in cases like this, was often a rare thing for him. Seriousness when angry was a common occurrence, seriousness in other situations, not so much. Melissa didn’t even reply to this answer, not even a nod, her mouth tightening. Her expression looked conflicted; like she wanted to smile at the thought of her baby sister finally finding herself, but also frown at the idea of the person she’d become.

_The girlfriend and partner in crime of a psychotic gangster. Heh, not something you’d really expect your sweet, innocent little sister to end up as._

More needed to be said, he still wasn’t entirely sure if he was 100% convinced just yet, but a door behind them opened and slammed shut, which was then proceeded by the presence of Ivy and Frost as they came striding over.

  _Looks like this conversation is over now._ Yes, but it could be continued later. When Harley was back, then and only then would he allow that 99% to go up one point.

“J, we found her. She’s at Gotham General.” Frost was saying as he approached. This immediately seized both the Joker and Melissa’s attention, though it was debatable who was quicker to run over to the man as the two almost collided. Annoyed, Joker shoved Melissa back near Ivy and skidded to a stop in front of Frost.

“Are you sure? How do you know it’s her?” he inquired, his jaw set.

“I’m sure, boss. I wasn’t sure what to look for exactly, until Ms. Isley came in.” Frost nodded towards Ivy, who was standing next to the disgruntled Melissa. “I was looking under recent admissions in all hospitals until she suggested searching under Harley’s assumed name.”

He opened the laptop he was carrying to reveal a recently-documented patient record.

“Lena Sorkin. Admitted to Gotham General for pregnancy complications—” As he spoke, Joker snatched the laptop from him and plunked down on the couch, his eyes rapidly scanning the page. “Supposedly a uterine rupture, but they aren’t entirely sure.”

“The fuck is a uterine rupture?”

“Not anything pleasant that’s for damn sure. It’s a tearing of the uterine wall.” Melissa spoke up, moving to sit down next to Joker as she grabbed the laptop halfway into her lap to also study the report. “It’s more common in women who have had uterine surgeries—though I’ve seen cases where it happens to people with no prior surgery…which from what I can see, seems to be the case from what the doctor has written here.”

Almost everyone in the room was giving her a look as she scanned the computer. Upon noticing, she sighed and stopped scrolling the page.

“What? You thought Leeny was the only doctor in the family?” she said, earning an amused look from Ivy and an aggravated one from Joker.

“Oh joy, are all of you Quinzels doctors, now?” he muttered, taking the laptop back from Melissa’s grasp. She repressed a chuckle, but scooted a bit closer to keep her eyes on the report.

“Beats me if I know. Trent’s probably still in the fucking basement coming up with conspiracy theories or some shit.” Pressing her thumb on the screen, she scrolled through the report. “Okay, so, clearly now we know where she is. According to this report, she was admitted yesterday—”

“Which would explain why she wasn’t at her apartment…” Ivy muttered, leaning over the couch. “But all that blood on the floor though…shit…what are her chances of still being okay?”

“I can’t say. If she got the right medical treatment then she should recover well enough.”

“Christ, alright! Enough of this medical talk, we’ve sat around long enough.” The laptop hit the sofa cushions as Joker jumped up. “We’re going to go get her; she’s an open target in that place and I’m not about to let any of those nutjobs from Arkham get their hands on her.”

_Or anyone from Belle Reve, for that manner._

There was probably a stronger chance she’d end up there anyways, that Waller hag probably didn’t give one crap if Harley was pregnant and would no doubt want her back on her merry band of bitches. Like he was really willing to let that happen again.

“Bring the car back out front, Johnny, we’re leaving. Right now.” Frost didn’t waste a second and nodded, exiting the room while Joker went to retrieve his coat. Melissa got up from the sofa as well and strode over to the Joker.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She might not even be in the best condition to be moving right now.” Probably not a wise question for Melissa to ask, especially with the brief snarl that served as Joker’s response to that. He threw his coat back on, fastening several of the buttons.

“I don’t give a damn about that; she’ll have a plenty of time to rest when she gets home.” he snapped. “Did you miss the part where I said she was an open target?”

“As much as I hate to say it, I agree with him.” Ivy huffed as she walked up, stopping next to Melissa. “Harley isn’t safe in that kind of place; it’d only be a matter of time before they figured out who she was. Though, I don’t think barging in that place unannounced is going to help her cause much either.”

She turned to Joker.

“You’re probably not going to like this idea, but I think you should stay back here.”

“Like hell I will!” Joker spat, adjusting the collar on his coat. He snatched up his cane from where he’d tossed it against the wall earlier. “Harley’s mine, and not to mention carrying my child! If you really think I’m about to sit back and—”

“Funny you’re starting to give a crap about your kid now, Joker, but seriously—” Ivy interrupted. “I really think you need a time out on this. Let me and Melissa go get her; that’ll cause way less suspicion than you coming to show up. If we’re lucky, they haven’t seen past her Lena Sorkin persona; the minute you show up, that’s all over.”

His hand clutched on the cane, Joker let that thought run through his head. Having to admit Ivy had a point ticked him off, but…she _did_ have a point. Considering the facts that Harley had probably been through surgery already and that her tattoos had already been spotted…who was to say they wouldn’t put two and two together when he came to get her?

Maybe it really would be too much of a risk, even though the thought of having to prolong seeing her was really starting to become extremely excruciating.

Grunting, Joker relented, tossing his cane back to its former resting spot. He approached Ivy, with a warning finger raised in the air.

“ _Okay,_ Ms. Goody Two-Shoes, you win.” he sneered. “But understand this; the minute you get her, come back here. No pit stops, no potty breaks. Capisci?”

“Fair enough. But if Harley ends up wanting to get drive through, don’t say it was my fault. You know how she is.”

More than anyone he knew how she was. He did not reply to Ivy, just pointing his warning finger a lad closer before lowering it, and marched away from the two women. Melissa eyed him as he left, disappearing into his office, and turned back to Ivy.

“…so, um…” she started, as the other woman threw her own coat back on. “When you said I was going…”

“I meant it. I’ve had to put up with his crap all day.” Ivy muttered. “Besides, I get the feeling he’s not the only one eager to see Harley right now.”

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she pulled it into a ponytail and zipped her coat up. A car door slammed outside, indicating Frost had retrieved the car. Melissa observed it from the window, saying nothing, and glanced back towards Ivy, following her out the front door


	18. Chapter 18

The car ride was a rather silent one; not even the radio was playing.

Frost had been initially hesitant in handing the keys over to Ivy when she and Melissa had been the only ones to step outside, but through some convincing had surrendered the keys to the two women and departed back upstairs to the penthouse, presumably the living room. It’d been a little while since they’d left; and Ivy was frankly surprised that Joker wasn’t blowing up her phone with text messages asking if they’d gotten Harley yet. Melissa sat next to her, staring out the window at Gotham as the car hummed down the road.  Ivy spared her a small glance as she turned the car down the next street, noting how intently she seemed to be observing the city.

“Is this your first time in Gotham?” she asked.

Melissa didn’t look away from the window, only tilting her head to one side as she raked her hand through her hair, in-turn combing a few lackluster strands back from her face.

“Nah…it’s been a long time though. My aunt and uncle used to live here, we’d visit them every Thanksgiving.” she said, releasing the fistful of hair she’d gathered. “They ended up moving after my cousin was born; thought this city was a bad place to raise a family.”

“Mm, can’t say that I blame them…” Ivy murmured, spinning the steering wheel.

“Yeah, I don’t either.” The car pulled up to a stop light. “I’m honestly shocked this place isn’t a ghost town after all the shit that’s happened here. I mean, it still looks the same but…I’ve kind of got this feeling that it’s only gotten worse.”

Ivy pressed her foot down on the gas pedal as the light flashed green.

“That’d be a correct assumption…not that this sounds comforting, but I am kinda one of the reasons this place has gotten worse.” she admitted casually, the car accelerating forward with a tiny lurch. That was to be expected with the engine power this thing had; not that she wasn’t used to driving one of Joker’s cars, Harley had snatched one out to drive for a girl’s night and because the latter woman ended up completely drunk that night, Ivy had been left to drive home. That was nothing she missed doing at all.

Melissa chuckled softly next to her and shifted from her slump against the car window, squirming into a more straightforward position in her car seat.

“I figured…and, what about Leeny? She one of the reasons too?”

“She and Joker both.” affirmed Ivy, pulling the car to a stop due to yet another light; only this time it was a crosswalk light and a whole line of pedestrians was crossing the street. “He was a dangerous enough force on his own, but if you throw Harley into the mix…hah, it’s almost like a bad chemical reaction.”

The last few pedestrians crossed the street as Ivy pulled forward.

“Like, I don’t want to be blunt with you, Melissa…but if you’re expecting the same, sweet little eleven-year old that you knew as a kid...you better lower your expectations.”

“Oh, I figured that already. I wasn’t expecting anything too encouraging when I tracked her down.” Melissa agreed, slumping in her seat. “It’s been so long…I honestly don’t know what I’m expecting to find. God knows I was already terrified at the idea of having to confront someone like the Joker, my heart was beating so hard I’m shocked my ribs didn’t combust.”

“Really? I thought you held your own pretty darn well in there.”

“Yeah? Well if you haven’t figured it out, us Quinzels are pretty damn good at masking ourselves.” She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug as they drove upwards onto a bridge. “Don’t think I haven’t seen the news reports; the things he’s done, the things…”

She stopped, grimacing.

“…the things Leeny’s done…no, trust me, I was fucking terrified.” She laughed wearily, her voice sounding choked as it came out. “I thought for sure I was going to end up like one of those poor people I saw on TV…you know, wheeled out on a stretcher with…with horrible injuries, or worse…”

Ivy eyed Melissa again, noticing the woman now looked just a little visibly distressed as she rubbed her hands on her thighs, presumably because they were sweaty, and exhaling shakily.

“And you risked all this…just because you wanted to find Harley?” she asked, careful to put her focus back on her driving. Melissa glanced at her, nodding slowly after a moment’s hesitation.

“Yeah…I knew there was a chance I could die, but considering the circumstances…” she trailed, crumpling her hands into fists, which fell to her side. “I…I don’t know. I was counting on Leeny being there to back me up, but the minute I saw she wasn’t around…”

She unfurled her fists.

“…I was so sure I was a goner.”

Another shaky exhale as she looked back out the window towards the city. Ivy said nothing, as the car departed downwards off the bridge and onto the road. What could she say, it wasn’t like she was stunned or at a loss for words, but she did feel just a little impressed by everything Melissa had said. It really did take guts to face someone like Joker, let alone have a casual conversation like Poison Ivy, but here she was; handling it like a champ. Practically rubbing elbows with villains even though she was beyond terrified.

She noticed the sign for Gotham General looming up ahead, but yet again found herself having to pull to another stop. It did give her another chance to steal a glance at Melissa, who was slumped back against the window again, massaging her temple.

“…how are you even able to talk to me right now, then?”

Melissa stopped massaging her temple, giving Ivy a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You know…assuming who your sister is dating, and what she does…” Ivy shrugged. “Back in the penthouse, you didn’t even know who I was. If you’ve been watching the news, I’m surprised you haven’t seen anything about that…what’s her name, Poison Ivy?”

“Oh, her? Not really…I honestly don’t watch the news all that much, I usually just end up seeing the news clips on Facebook.” Melissa admitted, moving from the window. “Anything I see ends up being about the Joker or Harley Quinn. What’s your point?”

 “…my point is, you haven’t even asked my name for the entire hour we’ve known each other.” Ivy simpered, looking towards Melissa quietly. The puzzled look on the other woman’s face paled and vanished, as she quickly looked away from Ivy. The light moved to yellow and Ivy slowly advanced the car, not before sparing another look towards Melissa. She silently chuckled, and once more the entire car became silent until it arrived at the hospital.

As to be expected, the parking lot was almost entirely filled, save for a few spare parking spaces. Ivy pulled the car into one of them, and shut the engine off. Melissa moved to unbuckle her seatbelt but was cut off as she found Ivy’s hand suddenly grasping her arm.  Her breath hitched and she met eyes with her, her lips pressing together. Before now, she’d been so comfortable talking to Ivy, but after that recent revelation of her identity, she’d be lying if she didn’t feel just a teensy bit intimidated right now. She had seen at least one news report regarding Ivy’s actions…at least now she was getting a good idea what kind of people her sister rolled with now.

Ivy’s green eyes stared back at her, intently, as she scrutinized the other woman. She wasn’t at all bothered by the slight fear behind her eyes, it was to be expected, but she also oddly felt a pinch of pity for her. This poor woman had already had to put up with the dramatic antics of the Joker today, there was no need to torment her any further. Still, she had something pressing on her mind that she needed to know; in fact, she had a lot of things pressing on her mind, but _someone_ wasn’t wanting to answer her. There was a good chance that Melissa might be more complying in telling her what she wanted to know.

“Melissa…what do you want with Harley?” she questioned, causing Melissa’s face to light up with surprise.

“I…don’t understand? She’s—”

“Your sister, I know. And I’m probably an idiot for taking your word for it.” Ivy’s expression hardened the more she spoke, one nail slightly pressing into Melissa’s arm. Not hard enough to prick, but light enough to make her squirm. “Not that I’m doubting if you’re telling the truth or not, but I just wanna make sure…why do you even want to see Harley? Why now? You’ve had plenty of time in the past, why randomly decide to show up now?”

Any fear softly melted from Melissa’s eyes. She drew her lower lip between her teeth, eyes shifting towards her lap.

“I…I don’t know…”

“I think you do know.” Ivy persisted, shifting onto her side. Another nail pressed into Melissa’s arm as her interrogation continued.  “Harley’s my friend, Mel…and trust me when I say that’s saying a lot. She’s one of the only people I care for; don’t think she hasn’t told me how your family was. I just want to make sure you aren’t planning anything.”

“You think I’m like the rest of my family?” Melissa looked offended, scoffing. She managed to yank her arm free from Ivy, a line appearing between her brows as she frowned. “I never mistreated Leeny, I think my mom and brother did plenty of that. I’m not here on their accords, I’m here on my own.”

“And what accords are those?”

Melissa looked away from Ivy, growing quiet.

“…nothing I want to discuss…” she mumbled. “At least, not with anyone who isn’t Leeny. The most I can say is that it’s family business. _That’s_ all I’m saying on that.”

“Mmhm…”

 “Look, I’m not here for anything bad, okay? And—and to answer your other question, of—of why now? It’s because…because…” She held up her hands, exasperated, rubbing her eyes. “Because…by the time I actually could look Leeny up, she was already living her own life. She was a doctor, she had a career…she seemed happy.”

Soft chuckles, as she rested her hands beside her. A sad, but small smile lifted her lips as she looked down.

“At least, I thought she was happy. Like, why the hell would she want any reminders of her old life back?” she said, scratching her fingers against the cushion, absent-mindedly. “Next thing I find out, she’s equals with a psychopathic clown. Figure out why I didn’t seek her out then.”

Ivy really didn’t need to, that was just plain common sense. Seeking an audience with the Joker was almost like you were sentencing your own death.

“And now…recently…well, like I said, it’s family issues. If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t have even bothered coming all the way down here.” Melissa was saying now, folding her hands in her lap. She sniffed, and glanced over at Ivy.

“I just want to see my sister, alright?” she insisted. “Especially now that I know she’s pregnant. Somehow, that just makes me even more anxious. Like I’ve also got a niece or nephew to impress now.”

“Niece.” Ivy confirmed, now unbuckling her own seatbelt. Melissa bit on her lip, and moved to open her car door, but stopped halfway.

“…hey, should I even be going in there with you? I’m not sure…like, how’s she going to react to seeing me?”

“Only one way to find out.” The other side of the car opened and Ivy jumped out of it, shutting the car door. She met eyes with Melissa again as the other woman slowly inched out of the vehicle, both hesitantly and nervously. “We go in.”

\--

Never had she known a building to have so little color. The walls were so white and bright that it almost hurt Ivy’s eyes to look at the minute she entered the building. Melissa walked alongside her as the two treaded down a long hallway, making their way to the receptionist’s desk.

“Shit. What do we tell the receptionist?” Melissa hissed.

“Easy. We tell her we’re Lena’s sisters.” They both quickly stepped aside as a nurse passed them by with a medicine cart. “I don’t think that should be too hard for you to do.”

Melissa silently nodded, resuming her trek back to the receptionist’s desk with Ivy. They both approached it and the woman behind the desk was busily typing at a computer, but looked up and pleasantly smile as the two stopped.

“Hello ladies, how can I help you?”  she asked, her voice sugar-coated like one of those annoying customer service people you never cared to listen to longer than five minutes. Ivy plastered on a smile, while Melissa stood next to her, and leaned against the desk, sweeping loose bits of red hair behind her ear.

“Hey, Yolanda, is it?” she said, noticing the woman’s name tag. “Our sister was admitted here yesterday and we were just wondering if you could tell us what her room number is. She called us yesterday and I completely forgot what it was.”

“Ah, don’t you hate it when that happens?” The woman’s smile turned sympathetic and she chuckled, turning to her computer. “What’s your sister’s name, honey?”

“Lena Sorkin.”

“And how do you spell that last name?” “Yolanda” was typing something on her keyboard, before Ivy could respond, Melissa spoke up.

“S-o-r-k, and in.” she said. “It’s a Jewish surname.”

Ivy cut Melissa an impressed look before turning her attention back to the woman at the desk. She’d stopped typing and was now scrolling through whatever file she was looking at. Her brow creased as she squinted, slowly shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, there must be some mistake. There’s no one here by that name.” Her words brought instant confusion and alarm onto both women’s faces. “Are you sure your sister said she was at here?”

“Oh—positive!” Ivy stumbled, placing her hands on the desk. “Check again, I’m sure she’s there somewhere, maybe you scrolled too fast.”

“Ma’am, I scrolled through twice, but I can’t find any ‘Lena Sorkin’s in our database.” Yolanda apologized, turning from her computer. “There’s a good chance you might’ve heard your sister wrong; you can check with another receptionist but I doubt it’ll do you any good.”

“You heard her. She said _check again_.” Melissa stepped up next to Ivy at the desk, her own fists gripping at the wood. “I get that Sorkin isn’t a common name, but I doubt it’d be that hard to find.”

The receptionist looked startled, but bothered. Sighing, she went back to her computer and typed something in, scrolling through briefly before once again shaking her head.

“I’m sorry.”

So, still nothing then? Melissa and Ivy stared back at Yolanda with looks of disbelief, and subsequently turned away from her, walking away.

“That bitch, I don’t get it. We just saw the file this morning, how could—” Melissa started ranting, being cut off as Ivy dragged her down an adjacent hall. They stopped in a rather dark corner, near a broom closet. No close enough to where no one would hear them. Ivy looked around first, back at the receptionist, and back at Melissa.

 “She knows something.” she speculated. “Did you see that flash in her eyes, the minute I said Harley’s false name? Either they don’t want us knowing she’s here, or…”

“Or what?”

“…or, she was here, and she’s gone.” Ivy shrugged. “Fuck, I don’t know, Melissa. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think there’s no way she’d be gone; not after a uterine rupture. She’d have to be on bedrest for at least a couple of days.” Melissa pointed out, surprised that Ivy’s first response was to snicker.

“Clearly you don’t know her as well as you think.” She looked back quickly at the receptionist’s desk. “Okay, we need to look at that receptionist’s computer. You’re in charge of doing that, think you can handle it?”

“Uh—sure, but how am I going to get near it?” Melissa too looked at the desk, quickly looking back as Yolanda turned to pick up a cup of coffee. “She’s covering that thing like a hawk.”

The sound of coughing alerted Ivy to notice they were near someone’s hospital room. A sly look of knowing came over her face and she winked at Melissa.

“Just leave that to me.”

Melissa didn’t get to inquire as to what Ivy was going to do, just watch as she checked to make sure no one was walking in this direction, and strolled into the room nearby. She waited out in the hall for two minutes, nervously shoving her hands into her pockets. By the time the third minute hit, she was startled out of her waiting haze as a loud alarm suddenly went off. The light above the patient’s room was now blinking brightly and Ivy ran out, pulling Melissa alongside her as Yolanda and another nurse fled past them to the room.

“What---what the hell did you do??!” Melissa wondered out loud as they ran to the desk.

“Nothing you need to worry about. He’ll live.” Ivy reassured her as she pulled the computer chair back, allowing Melissa to sit in it. “Make this quick though, there’s no telling how quick Yolanda’ll be getting back here.”

Although still bewildered by what just happened, Melissa stiffly nod and slid into the computer chair, typing at the desk as quick as possible. Ivy kept a watchful eye behind them while she scrolled through the patient list the nurse had accidentally kept up. It wasn’t like she’d had a chance to close it anyways. During this, Ivy felt her phone buzz and pulled it out of her coat pocket to find that Joker had begun his long series of text messages inquiring as to whether or not they’d gotten Harley back. She hurriedly typed in a reply;

_“No, we’re working on it.”_

\--and shoved her phone back into pocket. She looked back around again just to make double sure there was no sign of Yolanda or any other staff members, the coast looked clear for the time being. The ruckus in the patient’s room was still quite audible, even from here, and it didn’t seem like anyone would be coming back out here just yet. That didn’t mean they had plenty of time though, Yolanda could easily decide she’d left something at this desk and come back for it.

“Found her.” She snapped her back at the sound of Melissa’s voice, leaning next to her to look at the computer screen. Indeed, it did seem that Melissa had found Harley, or rather, her faux identity. _Lena Sorkin; admitted for pregnancy complications at 2:00 PM yesterday._ This was information they knew already; but even as they continued scrolling through, saw no sign of what her room number was.

“That’s just…odd…” Melissa remarked, pressing the mouse repeatedly. “Her room number should be here. I did reception work at the hospital I interned at—and we usually had that kind of information on hand.”

“That means she isn’t here then.” Ivy stood back up, her phone going off again. She ignored it, scrunching her face up the more she continued to study the screen. “Are you seeing any time of release?”

“No…” Pushing the chair back, Melissa ran her palms over the armrests of the seat, hesitating. “This doesn’t seem right at all, though. If she’d been released, they wouldn’t be keeping her file like this—plus, look here—”

She pointed where some lines had been blacked out.

“—it’s like they’re intentionally hiding information. Why do you think—”

“Hey!” Both women were startled as Yolanda was now standing before them, a clipboard in her hands. She started towards them, confusion and shock written all over her face.

“You aren’t supposed to be back here—”

She didn’t get one single chance to finish her sentence or even think about calling security; instead, a small green vine shot out from Ivy’s bag and curled itself around the woman’s neck, promptly throwing her to the ground despite her efforts to claw it off of herself. It remained there, squeezing tight as Ivy stood over Yolanda, Melissa shooting up from her chair, her face having violently paled. She looked like she wanted to say something, but instead walked next to Ivy, her mouth agape. Clearly, she hadn’t been paying attention to any news reports regarding Ivy if this was enough to startle her.

Now kneeling in front of the poor woman, Ivy looked down at her with disdain that couldn’t have been more obvious than if it smacked you in the face. She glowered down at her; the vine tightening itself even further.

“If I release this, you tell us everything about Lena Sorkin. No calling security, no trying to run.” she spoke slowly and seriously, Melissa continuing to stand by and remaining quiet. “If you do either of those things, you’ll be paying the ICU a visit, on a stretcher. Sound good?”

By now, Yolanda’s entire face had gone all but blue and her eyes bulged; somehow, she managed a small nod as her response to Ivy’s words. The minute the vine released itself, she let out a painful gasp for air, pressing her hand to her throat as she sat up against the desk. Ivy smirked, taking a moment to stroke the vine before it disappeared back into her bag.

“…just what the hell do you carry around in that thing?” She looked at Melissa, who was continuing to be the epitome of confusion and bewilderment. Zipping her bag back up, she only offered the same smirk, tensing her shoulders.

“Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I don’t think you want to know.”

She turned back to Yolanda.

“Now…let’s see if that wasn’t enough to make you talk…” she mused, tilting her head. The receptionist swallowed hard, her eyes darting back and forth nervously as Ivy knelt again.

“Time to answer some questions.” She motioned her head towards the computer. “What’s with Lena Sorkin’s file? How come some of it’s blanked out like that?”

“I…well, I didn’t make it like that…”  Yolanda’s voice cracked as she attempted speaking, her hand still pressed against her throat, where a bruise had formed. “Ken’s in charge of that stuff; you know, all the computers and everything?”

“Right; except, that’s not what we really care about.” Ivy reminded her, placing a hand atop her purse as she sat it on the ground. “We want to know why exactly you lied to us when we asked about her. There’s no room number; no date of release. Where is she?”

Her fingers clasped the zipper, threatening to open it again. Squirming, Yolanda backed up further against the desk. Melissa still stayed quiet, now having anxiously folded her arms whilst watching this entire scenario unfold.

“She…she isn’t here…I mean, she was—but—” Shakily, the receptionist reached up, taking off her glasses. “Some people came in here, yesterday—I was working the desk, and these two guys in suits came up. They started asking about a Lena Sorkin and weren’t saying much else, told us we needed to black out any information on the file that might be confidential. I wanted to ask why, but…they didn’t seem very interested in talking.”

She rubbed her eyelids, swallowing hard once more.

“I had one of um, one of the nurses, um—show them to her room, but I guess she wasn’t there. Next thing I know the whole hospital’s in a panic and then this woman…uh, this woman showed up…” The more she talked, the more a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of Ivy’s stomach. The hardness on her face melted, as she silently rose to her feet.

“What woman?”

“She…erm, I don’t remember her name…” Yolanda fidgeted with her glasses, her eyes darting back and forth again. She was probably itching to alert security right now, too bad. “I know she was an older woman…dark hair, dark skin. She told us all to vacate the floor, and wouldn’t say anything else. When I looked out, Lena…I think it was Lena,  was a wheelchair, being sedated by some nurse…then they left.”

_Older…dark hair, dark skin…_

Even though she hadn’t ever seen the woman’s face herself, Ivy instantly realized whom Yolanda was speaking of. Her face went blank for a second, and she drew in a sharp breath. Looking back down at the quivering woman beneath her, she gave her an explicitly fake smile.

“Thanks, Yolanda. That helped so much.” She resumed unzipping her purse, releasing another plant on her, which in sank into her neck like it was biting her; one small cry later, the receptionist had passed out. Melissa gave Ivy a look as she walked around the desk, adjusting her purse.

“Was that necessary?”

“There’s a toxin in that plant. It’ll make her forget this conversation ever happened.” Ivy stated, the vine receding back into the depths of the bag. “That’s not important right now; let’s just leave before someone finds us here.”

Though her nod was stiff, this served as Melissa’s response and she followed Ivy, both of them heading down the hallway to the exit. The doors opened and shut as they both headed to the car, and this was where Melissa decided to speak up.

“Ivy…what was she talking about? She mentioned a woman…” Her voice trailed, Ivy stopping in the midst of opening the car door. “What woman was she talking about? Does this mean my sister and her baby in trouble?”

Ivy didn’t answer straight away, inhaling sharply as memories of exchanging conversations with Harley about her prison days replayed in her mind. She’d been about ready to pounce when she mentioned those fucking guards, who harassed her and abused her any time they got the chance, but she’d never forgotten how much Harley’s face had fallen the minute she mentioned Amanda Waller.

 _“Like…she didn’t even deny she was the devil, Red. She fucking owned it.”_ she’d said, that being enough to seal Ivy’s permanent opinion of the woman.

“…Ivy?”

Exhaling just as sharply as she’d inhaled, Ivy looked straight back over at Melissa’s expectant expression, turning to grab the top of the car.

“Your sister is in a shit ton of trouble, Melissa. The woman…” She glanced around, waiting for a passing man to walk out of earshot. “The woman who has her, her name is Amanda Waller.”

“Am I supposed to have heard of her?”

“If you haven’t, consider yourself lucky. She makes what I do look like child’s play.” Ivy continued in opening her car door, wincing at the fact that her phone was still continuing to go off. Now was hardly the time Joker needed to be texting her, and she sure as heck wasn’t replying. Any reply she’d be making would be enough to have a string of ugly swear words thrown back at her.

“But Ivy, wait…” She stopped at sitting down, not looking up. “…if you’re talking about her like that, what does that mean for Leeny?”

That…was not a question Ivy wanted to know the answer to. Unfortunately, she knew that answer just as well as Joker and anyone else who’d crossed paths with Waller and been lucky enough to live just so they could tell about it to everyone else.

“It means…” The phone was still going off, the buzzing becoming more and more rapid. “It means she’ll be lucky if she even gets to _look_ at her baby.”

* * *

 

The Joker was sure he’d worn a hole into the ground with how much he’d paced around the room. His phone sat on the coffee table, still and quiet, no sign that any replies were coming, though this didn’t stop him from running over to it at any kind of noise that came from it. This had been his behavior from the first minute he’d looked out the window to see Ivy driving off—and in one his cars, no less. If that hadn’t been enough to irritate him, he’d been trying to convince himself that she wasn’t going to try driving off with Harley. She couldn’t make it any more obvious that she didn’t trust him, who was to say she’d go back on her word?

His arms crossed behind his back, he left the coffee table for the umpteenth time that afternoon and began pacing again. Frost sat on the sofa, and he would’ve been watching the television had he not been distracted by the sound of his employer’s erratic footsteps going back and forth on the marble floor. He glanced behind him, noting that J also seemed to be muttering to himself, and sighed, turning back to the television.

“Boss, calm down. It’s only been fifty-minutes since they left.”

“ _Only!?_ Christ Johnny, Gotham General’s a thirty-minute drive from here!” Joker’s protests grew nearer as his footsteps ambled over to the sofa. “They should’ve been on their way back by now!”

Noise from his phone brought him back to the coffee table, Joker whirring his way around Frost and the sofa and snatching the device from its resting place. He scowled at seeing it was not Ivy and simply one of the henchmen texting him, and he growled, chucking the phone across the room. Dropping onto the sofa next to Frost, he raked his hands through his hair, moaning as he covered his face with his hands.

 “Why…why isn’t she responding, what the hell is going on…” His voice was muffled, but his words were thankfully discernible enough to understand. “That’s the last time I trust that flytrap to run my errands…”

“Mister J, you really need to relax. If something was wrong, Ms. Isley would’ve let you know by now.” Frost attempted to sound reassuring, but even he wasn’t sure what was going on himself. He knew there was probably a chance Ivy would change her mind and decide against bringing Harley back, especially considering that the Joker was being so tight-lipped about why he wanted her back in the first place.

But damn it, he and Joker were the only ones in the room right now and one of them needed to keep a level head. And his boss was doing a piss poor job of doing that, as evidenced by the fact that he hadn’t even seemed to have heard Frost, letting his hands slide down his face before they plopped onto the sofa cushions. More grumbling, too.

“…I should’ve gone…damn it, I should have gone.” he lamented, throwing his head back. “I can’t stand this…can’t stand waiting. I’ve never liked waiting, you know that, Johnny.”

“Better than anyone, sir.” Frost agreed, grunting as he shifted aside in his seat, swinging one leg atop the other. “But Harley’s safety is already at risk, it would’ve been too much of a chance to take, say, if you went.”

“I’m aware…” Joker groaned, his eyes closed. “That doesn’t change how much I hate waiting though. It makes me feel…useless, in a way. I hate feeling useless as much as I hate waiting.”

He opened his eyes, narrowing them down at the remote that sat between him and Frost. Inhaling deeply, he picked it up and grunted, aimlessly pressing through several channels. Frost watched him for a split second, wondering what he could possibly say; whatever he was going to say, was going to make this situation better, or worse. Or could he just say nothing, that would be an easier choice.

Then again, he’d had to put up with enough of the Joker’s behavior for these past nine months. What more would a few more minutes be?

“…heh…well, look on the bright side, boss…” he started slowly, almost wanting to stop at the sound of Joker’s annoyed snarl.

“ _What_ bright side?”

“That…um, you’ll be getting good practice out of this.” _Weak response, much?_ “You know even more waiting’s going to be involved before the baby’s born. We don’t even know how much longer it’ll be.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me…” Joker settled on a random news station before chucking the remote over to the same place his phone was now residing, which was on the other side of the room. Due to it being so far, he failed to realize that the screen had lit up, buzzing loudly. Ivy’s name was displayed on the Caller ID screen.

“Why not, J? I thought…uh, that you’re okay with this whole baby thing now…”

“I am! Well—no, kind of...” Huffing, he sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Okay, can I be honest? I’m actually still on the fence about that whole ordeal…that isn’t saying I’m not open to the idea of a kid, but…”

He faltered, clasping his hands together. A low chuckle emitted and he turned his head towards Frost.

“Okay…okay, Johnny, be truthful…”

He gestured to…well, all of himself.

“Do I look like father material to you?”

That was a trick question, wasn’t it? Frost wasn’t quite sure how to answer, any words transitioning into a low hum as he tried to come up with the nicest response possible.

“…not to the normal eye, boss, no.” he said, shrugging.

“Precisely.” Joker’s hands dropped, and the grin on his face disappeared. He went back to slouching against the couch, crossing himself. “I don’t look like father material, I don’t act like it. Who’s to say I might…well…”

He shifted uncomfortably, grinding his jaw which was, at the same time, incredibly clenched.

“I don’t know, it’s going to sound stupid…” Another chuckle. “I’m…I don’t…I don’t think I’m going to be good at this whole parenting thing, Johnny.”

“Bos—”

“I know, I told you—it sounds stupid!” His chuckle was louder this time as he pressed a hand against his forehead, which crinkled as he laughed.  “Imagine, me, the Joker…fearless of everything, but terrified at the idea of raising a child…it’s just…it’s just fucking stupid…right?”

“I…wasn’t going to say that…” Frost admitted, moving his arm to the armrest of the sofa. “I was going to say it sounded normal.”

“ _Normal?”_ Joker almost choked at that word, gaping at his right-hand man. “Christ, what kind of shit--are you serious? No, it’s ridiculous! I’m not supposed to be feeling this way! Normal…isn’t…”

He clamped his jaw shut.

“It isn’t _me…”_

“Maybe not, but you’ve said that in other situations.”

“Nevermind what I said in the past.” Joker snapped, giving Frost a dismissive wave as he put his hands behind his head. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We already had a therapy session yesterday, can we just save this shit for when the actual psychiatrist gets back?”

Stretching, he propped his legs out, resting both feet on the coffee table.

“Wake me when the car pulls up, I still have sleep I need to catch up on.”

His eyes fell shut again, and he let out a contented grumble as he slumped further on the cushion. This was a sure enough sign that this conversation was over, and Frost knew how to take a hint. He, instead of bothering his boss further, decided to go back to watching the television, despite it not even being on the station he’d been viewing in the first place.

Well, no sooner had the two of them done these things, had the car pulled up outside, this being clarified by the slamming of doors. Joker didn’t seem to be stirring yet, and Frost chose not to say anything until he could hear the elevator from the hallway. The minute it dinged, he was about to wake his boss up, until pounding footsteps came crashing into the penthouse followed by a slamming door. This did the job for Frost, as Joker’s arms both twitched and jerked out from underneath his head, him spewing out a string of curse words under his breath as he scrambled up to his feet.

“Crap—fuck! What is wrong with you people; you tell me to sleep and when I’m actually trying to—” He stopped short, turning around as Melissa and Ivy approached him. Frost stayed on the sofa, having had his attention caught by a news report on the television. Though, given by the dead silence…he was guessing that Harley wasn’t with them.

Either that or she and his boss were sizing each other up.

That wasn’t the case, however. The Joker stood, frozen, looking beyond the two women, his pupils growing as he soon realized that Harley was nowhere near them, or even behind them. Both hands furled into fists, his face twisting.

“Where…the hell is she…” he growled, this being enough to cause Melissa to step behind Ivy. Neither of them looked like they wanted to answer, and only exchanged looks with one another, which further perturbed the Joker.

“I hope one of you are planning on answering me…” He was silently fuming now, walking around the couch. Even though he was closer, there was still no sign of Harley anywhere. “Don’t tell me, she’s being a stubborn ass and won’t come in?”

Still no answers, at least, no definable ones. What he didn’t like was how grim Ivy and Melissa seemed to be looking; almost identical expressions on both their faces. Joker was breathing heavily now, fists curling tighter.

“Are you both mute now? What the hell is going on!?”

Another look was exchanged; Ivy now seeming as if she was going to speak up. She grasped onto her bag, almost looking prepared to unzip it if she had to.

“Joker…” Her voice came out low, and slow. He cocked his head at her, face twisting even further.

“Spit it out!” he snapped. “Where’s Harley?”

His question was soon answered, not by Ivy, or Melissa, but Frost, who was now standing.

“Boss…”

“I’m a little busy at the moment, Johnny—”

“Boss, no…you’re going to want to see this.”

So, Joker turned around, his fuming transforming into instant alarm the minute he saw what was on the television. Now he realized why the women had been hesitant in telling him what was going on…explaining Harley’s whereabouts…but they didn’t need to now. The news reporter on the TV was doing a grand job of that already.

“Harleen Quinzel, accomplice to the Joker and former psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, was reported to have been in custody of the law. Authorities currently have not released too much in the way of details.” He slowly padded past the couch, past Frost, his heart starting to beat rapidly while the news report continued. “They have confirmed, however, that Quinzel was admitted to Arkham earlier this morning, as seen here.”

The screen changed, making Joker’s eyes widen in the ultimate combination of fear and anger. Footage of Harley—a very pregnant Harley—strapped down to a stretcher, being wheeled in by a pair of orderlies. She was thrashing furiously and screaming a bunch of unintelligible swears that couldn’t be made out due to the news reporter’s voice over. He stopped talking long enough for Joker to pick up one sentence Harley screamed before being wheeled inside the building.

_“You—god! You’re a real snake, Amanda Waller! I don’t take back what I said!”_

**_Waller._ **

He went numb. Sinking to his knees, he continued staring at the television, and noticed the remote of the floor. Hand shaking, he pressed down on the rewind button as the footage of Harley replayed. He swore he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, the footage replaying over…and over…he took in the imagery he was seeing, his queen…imperiled, screaming. He was sure his entire body was numb by now, and was surprised at how low his heart at sunken.

_Waller…that bitch got her first._

God, if his anger hadn’t been kindled before, it was a forest fire now. But he didn’t seem to be showing it, instead, he slumped further onto the ground, fists hitting the floor as his head lowered. Huffs came in and out, his jaw slack. Nearby, Melissa, Ivy, and Frost stared at him, each of them unsure of how safe it would be to approach him.

“Should…we say something to him?” Melissa asked in a whisper, looking between Frost and Ivy. Neither of them nodded, or even shook their heads. Melissa gazed back over at Joker, and against her better judgement, took a tiny step towards him.

“Joker…I…”

“…leave…” The footage was still replaying, Joker’s finger fixated on the remote button. It kept replaying, Harley’s screams filling the room repeatedly. It was enough to make Ivy look away, and it made Melissa sick to look at herself; especially considering this was her sister in this footage. It was…jarring, to say the least.  She stared at it, then back at Joker.

“I—”

“LEAVE! ALL OF YOU!” Joker screamed suddenly, making Melissa stop dead in her tracks. She shut her mouth, backing up slowly. “Just…get the fuck out!”

“C’mon…” Frost grabbed Melissa by the arm, nodding his head towards the next room. She seemed against the idea, but followed anyways. The trio departed, leaving the Joker alone with the news footage. His arms were shaking, his entire body was, to be exact, just _vibrating_ with great fury the more Harley’s screaming filled his ears. A tear found its way out of his eye, trickling down his cheek. It reached his neck and he swiped at it, pressing its remnants against his fingers.

_Did he just…_

Gradually, he lifted his head, forcing himself to look at the television screen. He moved his finger from the replay button, instead, pressing it onto the pause button, securing the image of Harley’s terrified, angry face on the screen. Using his fists, he pushed himself up from the ground. The palm of his hand found its way to the television, pressing against Harley’s face in almost longing manner.

_He was too late._

One of his worst fears…Waller had her back in her grimy clutches. No doubt Batman had had a part in that, he wouldn’t be shocked if he had…hadn’t he taken enough from Joker already? Had taking Harley away once just not been good enough for him? It’d been different; the times he’d taken her to Arkham, those breakouts were a piece of cake. And this one…this one would normally be a piece of cake, except for the fact that Amanda Waller was overseeing Harley’s imprisonment. She’d no doubt have her placed in a maximum-security ward, leaving her to piss on the walls and use only padded cell floors for pillows.

His hand pressed itself even tighter against the image of Harley. More tears started leaking.

Was it never enough? Was it never enough for the Bat, to constantly thwart him like this? It was a fun game, sure, Joker loved every minute of it—but reasons like this…reasons like Harley, was why he never bothered to care, never bothered to feel love. Once people found out you had a weakness, they would use that weakness to their full potential. That weakness would be their card to cheat, and Bats was cheating.

Taking Harley was one thing, but this time, it was a two for one deal. He stood by what he said to Frost; yeah, he was definitely still on the fence about this whole parent thing…but the idea of…of _his_ child, being subjected to a normal life? They’d take her away the minute she was born, whisk her off to some foster home…she’d never know her true royal roots.

Oh, this was a two for one deal, alright. Maybe Bats thought it was fair, getting to rob Joker of a new protégé when he himself had done the same two years ago…but it wasn’t fair. He was _cheating._ And as far Joker was concerned, he was the only one allowed to cheat.

Moving his hand from the television, he brushed any lingering tears off his face and whirled around, clapping his feet together, standing in an upright position.

“Frost!” he bellowed. “Everyone, get back in here!”

A door down the hall opened and the trio exited, quietly walking back into the room. They all seemed to be keeping their distance, except for Frost and Ivy who stepped around the couch, Melissa remaining behind it. It was suffice to say she was still startled from Joker lashing out at her, five minutes ago.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Call all the boys, tell them to get their asses over here as soon as possible.” He moved from the television, marching to the group as he snapped out his orders. “I don’t care if they’re shitting or eating, just get them over here, now. And grab up those old floorplans of Arkham while you’re at it.”

“But J, those plans are outdated—” Frost started, a sharp growl from Joker cutting him off.

“Print new ones then! Just get going!” he barked, receiving a quick nod from Frost before he scurried off. He then turned his attention to Ivy.

“I know we probably aren’t on a good level of trust right now, but I need your help.”  he said. “Because you’re Harley’s best friend and…Christ, probably the godmother of our daughter…I’m asking you…can we put our differences aside, long enough to get her out of that shithole?”

“And go back to our normal nasty selves afterwards? Sure, that works for me.” Ivy agreed, putting a hand to her hip. “What do you need from me?”

“Go back to your apartment, gather up as many of your chemicals as possible. Whatever makes the biggest explosions, whatever causes the most pain.” Joker said. “Once you’ve got everything, meet me back here.”

“Chemicals, huh? Gotcha.” Ivy nodded, heading out the door. “Let’s hope the hospital got rid of the plastic plants this time around…”

Melissa watched as Ivy left, leaving her alone with the Joker. Now he seemed to be searching for his phone, which he promptly found and started playing with, looking like he was scrolling through his contacts. It was unnervingly silent in here, now that the footage had been paused…Melissa stared at the frozen image of her sister, which made her stomach churn painfully. She turned to the Joker.

“What I can do?” Her question made him glare at her, almost like he was confused by her question. He studied her up and down, cracking a snort before he went back to his phone.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you were volunteering to help…” he mumbled. Before Melissa could protest, he put his phone down and held his hand up. “Look Mel, I’m not saying I ain’t sold on you being Harley’s sister, but…you’re a law-abiding citizen. Why would you want to aid me…hell, why would you want to aid Harley? We’re criminals, remember?”

“She’s also my sister.” Melissa clenched her jaw, her voice firm. She placed both hands on her hips and stood in front of Joker as he tried walking off. “I came here with that mindset, and I don’t give a fuck if she robbed a bank or not—”

“Aha, cute, but she’s also killed people, Mel- _issa_ …” Joker reminded, his mouth twisting enough to show small parts of his caps. “She’s assisted in _homicide,_ and she lik _eeeed_ it…”

He moved closer to Melissa, but she didn’t step back.

“Why would you want to help someone like that?”

It did take a minute for Melissa to respond to his question. She drew in a deep, long breath, her eyes almost glistening.

“…because, like I said, she’s my sister.” she stated. “I always had her back when we were kids, now shouldn’t be any different.”

Except that it was different, and Harley wasn’t so innocent anymore. Still, Joker was mildly amused at Melissa’s undying devotion to her sister, even if she hadn’t seen her in ages, and with the whole prospect of her now being a wanted criminal. It was a little admirable, honestly.

“Okay…okay, maybe you can help. You said you were a doctor, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Alright…how’s about this…” Joker lifted both his hands as he spoke. “There’s a good chance we won’t be coming back here for awhile after we break Harley out; so I want you to go ahead and head out with one of my guys, to a place I use for these kinds of situations. Wait there, and be ready.”

He was very close now, having folded his hands.

“Can you manage that much?”

He was looking at her so intently, it wasn’t surprising that it took her a minute to respond.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He waved his hand, turning away from her. “Now get out of here, back to your hotel or—wherever it is you’re staying. I’ll send one of the boys to pick you up when we’re ready.”

She nodded, leaving without another word.

Now completely alone, Joker glanced back towards the television. Almost having to dare himself to do it, he scooped up the remote, and pressed his lips together tightly. A second passed, and he pressed the play button. This time, he stood as he watched, his eyes following Harley’s every movement as intensely and closely as he could.

“…don’t worry, pumpkin, Daddy’s coming…” he whispered, gripping the remote tightly. “Daddy’s coming for his girl…he’s coming for both his girls.”

On the screen, he watched as Harley was wheeled into the hospital, then the television screen went black. The remote went back to it’s spot on the floor and he left the room.


	19. Chapter 19

Two days.

Two days felt like an eternity to Harley, especially when she was currently confined in what felt like the smallest room in the universe. The tiniest barred window offered shit for sunlight; her only company in this room was a small toilet and her bed, where she had been laying for the entirety of her first day here, was where she still lay even though the sun had come up over two hours ago. She didn’t know what time it was, but she didn’t care.

She didn’t think she cared about anything right now…except for the impossible. The impossible being her chances of escaping and getting to hold her daughter, but that was looking slimmer and slimmer with each passing hour. Her chances, mayhap, could have been bigger if not for two factors; that she was nine months pregnant, and in one of the higher security levels of the hospital. She knew; she knew when she woke up that she’d been thrown into maximum security; she’d came up here enough during her Harleen days, sneaking secret visits with the Joker. She had a good picture in her mind of what those cells looked like, and it didn’t look like much had changed in those two years.

In her prior visits to Arkham, she’d been on the secondary security level. Why they’d suddenly realized she needed to be up here was probably no thanks to Waller’s doing, but she didn’t appreciate it. Despite the tiny cracks of sunlight coming in through the window, it was still very dark in the room, and Harley lay on her back, on a mattress that she was sure it was stuffed with rocks. Any traces of her disguise were gone; glasses, who knows where those were, wig, gone, her hair spilling past her shoulders, a pale blonde with extremely faded blue and pink tips. Her apparel of the hoodie and jeans she’d been wearing upon arriving had been no doubt disposed of, and she was now dressed in the garments typical of an Arkham Asylum patient. It’d taken them awhile to find one that she would fit into given her…”predicament”, as the orderly had put it, which was probably why it looked huge on her.

Hands on her stomach, she silently tapped her fingers in an unsteady rhythm as her irises were fixated on the ceiling. There was really nothing in particular she was looking at, instead, her mind was in other places. A void place, that resembled a blank slate, perfect for more words to come into. When she’d woken up several hours after she’d been drugged, she’d screamed and cried for a good six hours, until a security guard had passed by and smacked her door, telling her to shut up.

It was then she realized none of her crying would do herself any good. Previous visits had consisted of similar actions, just with more laughing involved. Now she just felt…empty. Like she’d wasted all her tears, and her vocal chords ached from all her screaming. And her ribs were still quite sore from the baby having kicked up a furious storm in attempts to make her mother stop.

She wasn’t sure if that’s what had made her stop, or the realization that no one cared. Literally no one in this madhouse gave a damn about her and would be just fine with letting her stay in the room for the rest of her life. They’d probably get their way if Batman had been the one to drop her off, not Amanda Waller.

Either way, she was fucked.

There was no way she was going to get out of this with her baby in her arms.

This thought now present in that blank slate, Harley’s lips parted as she exhaled wearily, her breath visible in the cold room. Tiny stabs at her ribs indicated that the baby seemed to also to be sharing in the wealth of her mother’s misery; as if somehow, she’d also sensed the doom that was coming for the two of them. Her face crestfallen and heart low, the only thing Harley could offer was a small rub against the areas her daughter seemed to be targeting; even that wasn’t enough to quell the child’s anxious kicking.

Clearly, she wasn’t going to be settled until her mother was.

“I’m sorry, kid…” she muttered, continuing to rub her stomach as the sound of creaking wheels could be heard coming down the hall, from outside her room. “I don’t know what else to do for ya…”

And the sad fact was, that was the truth. She really didn’t know what to do.

The creaking stopped, Harley jolting up as the door to her room began to open, a pathetic, loud, screech sounding off from the door hinges as the orderly on the other side slipped in with a tray of what she could only guess was her breakfast.  Glancing up at the man, she could see he had a very disinterested look on his face, like he’d rather be anywhere but here. That was understandable with this kind of job; in her own experiences staying here as a patient, and as a doctor, she’d come to learn that almost everyone here hated their jobs.

Except for her, of course. She’d always gone home to find it dreadfully boring, especially compared with what she did at work.

“Room service.” The man said, in a voice just as dead as he looked. Before Harley could move from the bed to grab the tray, he dropped it on the floor, allowing mushy bits of…something, she didn’t and couldn’t tell what, to fly out of their bowl and onto Harley’s feet as she swung them off the bed. Her mouth curled in disgust and she shot a look at the orderly as he turned to leave.

“Eat up, you’ve got a therapy session in 30 minutes.” he warned her, grabbing the door handle. “And no leftovers this time, Quinn. You got that?”

The door clanked shut, the creaky wheels moving away from Harley’s room. She sat on her bed, waiting as the sound of the wheels went further away, and eyed the food on the ground. None of it looked…appetizing, the longer she looked at it. That mushy stuff was probably grits, but it resembled ground up maggots, and the toast looked depressingly soggy.

Fuck, she didn’t want to eat any of _this_. But as it stood, she hadn’t eaten anything for two days already. She’d been passed out for several hours the day of her incarceration and had found a tray of food waiting for; which had been just as disgusting as this one, consisting of runny mashed potatoes and dry beef, alongside some greens which looked like they hadn’t even been washed prior to being cooked. This alluded to the orderly’s previous statement of “no leftovers”, as he had come back that night to only find that Harley had picked at her food.

And now she was paying for it, her stomach was growling. If it weren’t for how far along she was in her pregnancy, she would’ve forgotten she was eating for two and allowed herself to be subjected to feeding tubes again. But the more she thought about it, having a plastic tube shoved up her nose again didn’t sound like a good time…there were plenty of bad memories where that came from, not to mention she’d probably go straight back into that routine after she was through at her stay here.

She squeezed her eyelids shut, wincing at the idea of being strapped down and verbally taunted by the guards…especially that one guard, who’d seemed to have taken the most delight in tormenting her all while metallic fluids were pumped into her body. Even this crap hospital food…couldn’t be half as bad as that.

Willing herself to pick up the tray, Harley repressed a gag and seized the plastic spoon they’d seen fit to give her, scooping up a soppy spoonful of the grits that had remained in the bowl. The smell was repulsive enough to send her back into the vomit fits similar to the ones earlier on in her pregnancy, but she would just have plug her nose and shove it in…literally, in this case. So, while one hand pressed her nostrils together, she managed to down a few spoonsful of the grits until she was ready to keel over, and sat the plastic spoon back down.

“Christ the food’s gone downhill around here…I seriously doubt this is providing any nutrients for you, huh…” she grumbled, pressing a hand where she felt the baby turning over. “Yeah, I don’t blame you for feeling that way either.”

Observing the bowl, she was surprised to find it was empty now, but there was still the ever-present toast waiting for her on the other side of the tray. She almost didn’t want to touch it, but the orderly had said no leftovers…and she didn’t want to find out what happened if she made a strike two. There was already a feeding tube in her future and she didn’t want to fast forward to that.

* * *

 

By the time the orderly came back to her room, the tray was empty. Consuming the toast had not been as easy as the grits, but Harley had managed, despite almost gagging several times. That stuff had felt like wet paper going down her throat, and it’d taken everything in her to not spit it all up. But she had to play her cards right; she didn’t know how long she was going to be here in Arkham, so she had to play it cool for now.

_Maybe, if she thought hard enough, she could come up with some kind of plan…there had to be way to escape. She couldn’t rule out every possibility; who was she to give up hope so fast?_

A ridiculous thought. There was no way she was going to escape. She’d been over this time and time again, bickering back and forth with Harleen so much she was exhausted by it. The probability of a therapy session would be a good chance to talk to another doctor besides the manifestation of herself.

Two guards, a man and woman, entered the room as the orderly opened it. He only stepped inside long enough to snatch the tray and left, leaving the guards to approach Harley. She eyed both of them and noticed the woman removing a pair of handcuffs from her belt. This caused a grin to crack out on her face and she giggled.

“Aw come on guys, do I really need those?” she piped. “You wouldn’t really cuff an expectant mother, would you?”

“Not our call to make, Quinn. It’s hospital protocol for the high-risk patients.” The male guard explained as his partner grabbed Harley by the arm. “You should know this by now.”

He moved to assist his partner as they both attempted to help Harley to her feet, despite her obvious resistance. She dug her heels into her ground, yelping out several protests, and bared her teeth, snapping at the woman several times over in the way a wild animal would when it was being cornered by strangers. 

“Easy Quinn, this is only your second day here. You want to be paying a visit to the electrotherapy room?” The woman guard gruffly threatened, tightening her hold on Harley’s left arm. Harley’s only response was to snap at her again, even as both guards began to escort her of the room. Her snaps transitioned to laughing, as she left herself fall back into the guard’s grasp, being practically dragged into the hallway where a wheelchair was waiting. Her laughing stopped the minute her eyes locked onto the chair and she struggled to stand up.

“Wait—what is that—” she stammered, both guards ignoring her as they continued forcing her over to the chair. “No—come on guys, I can walk! I was just playin’ back there, my legs work fine!”

The ignoring went on, the female guard shoving Harley into the chair as her partner went straight to strapping her feet into the stirrups.

“Fellas—c’mon!” she pleaded again, but the other guard stood up, moving to strap her arms down. Once he made sure all binds were tightened, he nodded at his pal and she grabbed onto the back of the wheelchair, whirring it around. She began pushing it down the hall as he followed next to Harley, Harley squirming uneasily in her seat. They passed several other doors as they went further; one cell she recognized as Joker’s resident cell every time he’d been held here. 0801…which, actually looked to be sealed off.

That wasn’t at all surprising given how many times he’d broken out, they probably had that room on reserve for him.

_Imagine if he was the one in here, instead, Harley. Imagine if you were still free. You’d come for him, wouldn’t you?_

“…I would…” she breathed softly, low enough so the guards wouldn’t hear her. Though to be fair, the patients were making a bunch of noise from behind their cell doors that if she had been whispering, the guards still wouldn’t have been able to make out what she was saying.

_Incredible…so, after all the shit he’s put you through…you’d still come break him out?_

“I always have…”

_That’s just pathetic, Harley. He doesn’t deserve anything from you._

“I know.”

_No, no you don’t. Otherwise you’d have said “no” to the idea of breaking him out, which is unfortunately something he’s not going to be doing for us right now._

Harley wanted to snap back at the voice, but kept her mouth shut. The male guard had already given her a quizzical look, which told her they were starting to catch onto her conversation. She mustered an innocent look at him and went back to staring ahead as they wheeled her into the elevator.

Three floors later, and they were on a floor that was bustling with way more activity than the high-risk floor. That floor had always been the deadest floor in the entire building, no one seemed to like being up there any longer than they had to. All the activity always seemed to be happening on the first floor, which was where several of the doctor’s offices were. She still remembered, hers had been on the far east wing…she’d almost gotten lost looking for it during her first day.

Nothing much had seemed to change since her last visit; the walls and floors still looked dusty and grimy, the floors cracked and the walls looking like they needed a new coat of paint. It did look like they’d switched the plastic plants up for live ones since Ivy wasn’t currently residing here, though those looked about as dead as the employees. Portraits of the staff hung on the walls, Harley eyeing them while she wheeled past them.

She could still remember where her picture used to hang…right next to Dr. Simmons…oops, looked like his portrait was gone too. Hadn’t she killed him the last time she broke Mister J out of here? That would explain a lot, actually…

Patients were being escorted up and down the halls, some fixating on Harley as they passed her. She fought to keep her gaze steady, and ignore the harsh, guilt-tripping looks each patient, _and_ guard seemed to be giving her.

It was sufficing to say her reputation around here was about as good as the Joker’s. No doubt the rumors of her being pregnant had flown around this place the minute she was admitted, and now everyone looked bemused at it being true. Not to mention she was strapped into a wheelchair, and with her appearance…she couldn’t have been more worse for the wear. They weren’t exactly getting to watch the queen in all her glory.

_Humiliating…_

More minutes of travelling down the long halls passed before they ended up in the east wing---exactly where Harley remembered her old office being. They stopped at a door, which was across from a bench on the other side where another door resided. Another patient was seated on the bench, a rather muscular woman with a snake tattoo on her right arm, and her hair half-shaven. She seemed to be playing with a yoyo, but stopped as the guards came up with Harley. She stared right over at the former clown queen of crime, scrutinizing her entire appearance with a critical eye.

Harley felt unsettled by the woman’s stare and looked away. Normally she wouldn’t be so intimated, if it weren’t for her being wheelchair-bound and pregnant. Any other day she would’ve gladly engaged in a staredown with this woman.

“You supposed to be by yourself, Jessie?” the male guard asked, as his partner adjusted Harley’s chair near the other door. Jessie (apparently, as that was what the guard had called her), went back to toying with her yoyo, shrugging halfheartedly.

“Dunno. Ernie ran off, he’s probably fucking one of the nurses.” she grumbled, twisting the string around her fingers. She looked up towards Harley, jutting out her chin. “What’s she doin’ here?”

“She’s a patient, just like you, Jessie.” The other guard said, moving from around Harley’s chair. Harley still kept her gaze lowered. “She’s just waiting to see the doctor.”

“Yeah? Well good luck with that, I’ve been listening in on her current session and I doubt it’s ending anytime soon.” Jessie snickered, snatching her yoyo up in her hand. As if to confirm her point, loud shouting erupted from the room near Harley, as the door flung open and a tall, skinny man ran out, screaming hysterically. He brushed against Harley’s wheelchair and all but crashed into the wall, further deepening the dent that was already there.

Harley choked back a laugh, would have laughed if it wasn’t so pathetic.  There was way too much on her mind for her to even think about laughing at other people’s misery, though that did usually make her feel better. So she allowed herself a quick chuckle, as the two guards were quick to run from their spot near her and pounce on the patient, dragging him back from the wall as he kept screaming a bunch of incinerable nonsense.

“Touchdown!” she giggled, one of the guards (and Jessie)  giving her an annoyed look before turning their focus back to the patient. A dark-skinned woman emerged from the other room, fully dressed in the usual white coat and glasses apparel expected of an Arkham doctor. Her back was turned, but as she spoke, Harley couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about her.

“You got him, thank God. I was worried I was going to have to call for a lockdown.” she huffed, stopping to catch her breath.

“No problem, doc. What happened?”

“Oh, the usual. I mentioned medication and he bolted straight for the door, Ernie was supposed to be keeping an eye on things…” The woman squinted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “In fact, he was supposed to be watching Jessie as well! Do either of you know where he went?”

Both guards shook their head, but Jessie cupped her hand around her mouth, hollering through it like it was a megaphone.

“He’s fucking in the broom closet!” she shouted, earning her several stunned glares and a sigh from the doctor. Harley’s eyes widened but she quickly decided against sharing the same expression towards Jessie. Unlike everyone else in this room, she wasn’t in an authority position and would no doubt be on this woman’s hit list for doing that, if she had one.

“That was far more information than I wanted, Jessie, but thank you…” Sighing, the doctor turned to head back to the room. “I hate to leave anyone alone, but can you guys get him back in here and make sure he takes his medication? I really don’t want to have to call anyone else up here.”

“Erm, sure, doctor. No problem.” The one guard nodded, and he and his partner moved to dragging the babbling patient back into the room. They passed the doctor, who before shutting the door, looked back out into the hall.

“Oh, and Jessie, play nice with the other patient?” she asked. Jessie only smiled and nodded, but the minute the door shut, the smile in-turn became a very mean frown, turning her attention fully onto Harley, who was still wisely keeping her head lowered.

“Pst.” She still didn’t look up, scrunching her fingers against the arms of the wheelchair. “Psst, hey. Bitch, I’m talkin’ to you.”

There were legitimate scratch marks in the wheelchair’s armrests now. Harley slowly looked up, a smirk replacing Jessie’s frown as the dim light shone over the other woman’s face, revealing the tiny heart tattoo near her eye.

“I knew it…god, I fucking knew it…” she cackled, setting her yoyo down next to her. “I didn’t want to believe it, but there’s no denyin’ it now…you’re Harley Quinn, ain’t you?”

“Yup, the one and only.” Harley mumbled, continuing to scratch at the armrests like a restless cat. “Pleasure to meetcha, but I’m sure the pleasure is all yours, though.”

“Ooh, you’re damn right it is.” Jessie relaxed in her seat, crossing her legs. Her lips lifted as the smirk widened, revealing she was missing several of her front teeth. She sized Harley up again, seeming to take in every aspect of her appearance. “Shit, I’ve never been in front of royalty before. It’s kinda flattering.”

_Just how long is that doctor going to take, I don’t want to spend another second with this bitch._

No, she didn’t, she was already getting all kinds of icky vibes from this woman the longer she leered at her. But she’d been told to play nice, there was no way she was going to try stepping out of line.

Harley rolled her head to the side as she glanced towards her, putting on a sarcastic expression. Her fingers curled up underneath her hands, and she realized that one of her restraints was loose.

“Congratu-fucking-lations. I suppose you’ll want an autograph, then?” she jibed, her fingers curling up underneath her hands. She realized that one of her restraints was loose, having to refrain a gasp.

Jessie laughed, shaking her head.

“Nah, you don’t look like you’re able to give one right now anyways.” she pointed out. “Though…I could probably help you with that. Come over there, and loosen a couple of your restraints…”

Harley had been inspecting the loose restraint, but stopped and looked up at Jessie.  _Was she offering to help?_

“Wha…you’d do that? You’d really do that?”

“Hell no!” Any hope that’d risen in Harley’s heart shattered the minute Jessie chortled loudly, smacking her knee. “Good lord, you should’ve seen your face! I really had you going there for a second, didn’t I?”

She jabbed her finger at her, laughing loudly. Harley grit her teeth, making a mental note to put this woman on her own personal hit list. In these situations, it was _her_ who made these kinds of jokes, not the other person. Unless that other person was the Joker, but nobody else would get a free pass from her.

She went back to picking at the armrest, first making sure that Jessie wasn’t paying attention, and slowly started wriggling her wrist free from the loose restraint. This in itself wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start, once she’d freed herself from this end, she could work on loosening the other arm restraint…the leg ones, she might have to actually convince Jessie to undo. She might’ve been kidding, but maybe there was still some chance Harley could win her over to join her team. Something she could say, or do. She’d been able to pull it off on other patients in the past, now wasn’t any different—

“You know,” Her wrist stopped wriggling as she froze, realizing Jessie had stopped laughing. Looking up, she realized there’d be no chance of convincing Jessie to help her out, noticing the glare that had overtaken the inmate’s face. “When I said I’d never been around royalty before, that didn’t mean I was a fan. I hope you didn’t take that the wrong way.”

There was still some ruckus going on in the room near them, showing the guards or the doctor wouldn’t be coming out anytime soon. Harley glanced back at it, hoping the door would swing open suddenly and she wouldn’t have to be stuck in this hall with Jessie any longer, but there was no such luck. The ruckus, unfortunately, just continued to go on and on, and Jessie snatched up her yoyo and began to swing it, still very much fixated on the patient seated before her, eyes as focused on a hawk surveying the wildlands for its next meal. The finger she’d jabbed at Harley shot up again.

“Fact is, I remember you from way back when. Back when you were nothing more than one of those white coats.” she recalled. “I was on the high-risk floor back then…I’d see ya sneaking up here, late at night to chat with the Joker. Cost me nights of sleep to have to listen to you two go back and forth.”

“You expectin’ me to apologize for that? He was my patient.” Harley squirmed, enough to start wriggling her arm free again. Okay, so maybe Jessie wasn’t going to help her out, but she’d be darned if she had to sit in here and have this woman remind her of past events. Not that she hated remembering things like her late-night conversations with Mister J, but the point was, she didn’t want to think about _him_ right now. Not when she knew he didn’t care anymore, all that care had flown out the window the minute he found out he was going to be a father. There were times when he would’ve gladly burned a whole city down to find her, now he’d probably just burn a city down for the sake of burning it.

“Really? That didn’t sound like doctor-patient talk to me.” Jessie hummed, catching the yoyo in her hand. “Sounded more like conspiring…thought about tellin’ another doctor, but I didn’t feel like it. Guess it wasn’t all too surprising when they dragged you back in here a year later, and you were the one in the straightjacket this time. And now—you’re back again, only you’re not in a straightjacket…”

She lifted her head, pursing her lips together.

“…you’re in a wheelchair this time. I wonder why…” Placing both hands on the bench she sat on, she pushed herself up and slowly walked over to Harley, getting close enough to where she was almost level with her. Harley stopped wriggling and went still. Jessie seemed to be scrutinizing her, again, but this time, there was an almost cruelly cold look wandering about her eyes.

“Guess it wouldn’t take science to figure out…gotta say it’s more fitting than a straightjacket, though.” she observed. “That was your boyfriend’s thing, wasn’t it? What about him, he here too?”

Her lips felt numb now that she felt this woman’s hot breath radiating onto her, and she couldn’t find her voice. Any means of being her usual witty and chirpy self had dwindled by this point; she was already tired of this woman’s shit and couldn’t understand what was taking the doctors and guards so long to get that patient his damn medicine. She did not answer Jessie, not even bothering to shake her head. She did, however, hold her head up high, because even in the face of a threat, queens never looked down.

This served as her answer, and Jessie’s smirk came back.

“That’s a no then? Good, ‘cause I’ve been wanting to do this to you for the longest time.”

_Do what--_

Yelling out, Jessie swung out her leg into Harley’s wheelchair, giving off enough impact to send toppling to its side. Harley cried out, feeling half her body give way to the gravity as it sagged, her head now halfway on the floor. She did take notice that her arm was almost completely free now, and was about to resume tugging it out when she was met with a kick to the face. Several kicks to her face, actually, as Jessie was proving to not let the chains on her feet stop her from kicking her foot into Harley’s face repeatedly. The pain was blinding, and she was sure she felt blood dripping from her nose, but she’d had worse back in Belle Reve. She resumed freeing her arm and yelled, trying her best to smack away Jessie’s foot.

This didn’t work, but she did stop. She snorted, and dropped to her knees, grinning cruelly down at Harley’s now bloody and bruised face. Harley returned the expression, spitting out the wad of spit and blood in her mouth.

“That tickled!” she snickered through a gurgle, more blood and spit pooling the corner of her cheek. Jessie let off a “tch”, curling one of her fists.

“You’re tough, Quinn. I’ll give you that.” she said. Her eyes travelled down Harley’s body, taking in the more-noticeable bump protruding underneath her large shirt. “But…I’d imagine you’d have to be tough if you were pregnant with the Joker’s hellspawn, huh?”

_That fuck—_

Oh, she was not about to bring her daughter into this! Too much blood had pooled in Harley’s mouth for her to talk and she wasn’t able to spit it out in time, not able to stop the next words that came out of Jessie’s mouth.

“It’s no wonder you’re back here now, guess he finally recognized you for the needy skank you really are.” she was saying, coolness heavy in her voice. “Just look at you; it’s pathetic. At one point you were equals with him, you were all over the news.”

“You need to shut up…” Harley warned, sliding her hand back to her side. “You really, really need to shut up…”

“Bitch, please, you’re in a wheelchair.” Jessie gave a dismissive snort. “Seriously—look at yourself. You were really going places---now you’re a has-been, a wannabe—like, basically an ex-royal pregnant with her lover’s bastard child. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so depressing.” 

That was crossing the line, just how much farther was she willing to go with this? Harley’s blood was already at its boiling point and she would launched herself onto this woman by now if she wasn’t halfway restrained and currently knocked over onto her side, only one hand was still free and that wasn’t going to do much for her.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” she growled softly. “I’m warning you…”

But Jessie promptly ignored her, eyes going back to her bump.

“I wonder…if this bastard kid would be as tough as it’s mother…”

Harley’s eyes flashed as Jessie moved her fist.

_Oh…hell no!_

Quick like lightning, Harley’s arm shot out from where she’d furled it and she latched onto the woman’s wrist with the crushing ferocity of an angry lioness defending her cub. One sickening crack later plus a loud wail of pain from Jessie sent the occupants of the room running out into the hall, the female guard holding onto the formerly-screaming patient, who now seemed to be a hazy stupor from the drugs they’d given him.

“The hell is going on out here? Break it up!” The male guard shouted, prying off a yelling Jessie from Harley, who was growling at her, while the doctor grabbed onto her wheelchair and readjusted it upwards.

“She broke my wrist! The little slut broke my wrist!” Jessie screamed, even as she was being restrained by the guard.

“Yeah? You deserved it, thinkin’ you could get away with threatening my baby!” Harley retorted, not even fighting it as the doctor readjusted the strap over her freed arm, and seemed to be inspecting her for any other injuries. “Was belittling me and kicking my face in not enough for you, you thirsty bitch!??”

“Jessie!” The doctor stopped inspecting Harley, looking around bewildered at the other inmate. “I thought we were past harassing the other patients. What have I told you about that?”

“But Dr. Le—”

“No buts! You know the non-violence policy around here, I suggest you start following it!” The doctor snapped back harshly, but her face softened as she turned around to face Harley. “That goes for you too, next time, just shout for one of us, okay?”

Harley wanted to ask how they’d only just now been clued in on this ruckus, but didn’t. She just nodded, bitterly, and looked over at Jessie, spitting her tongue out. Jessie didn’t respond and only gave her an angry look as she was escorted down the hall by the guard. The female guard approached the doctor and Harley, carefully holding on to the drugged patient.

“Doctor, I have to take him back to his room. Will you be okay by yourself?” she asked, eyeing Harley warily, who in-turn scoffed and rolled her eyes, even though she was sure one was swollen by now.

“Christ’s sake, I’m in a goddamn wheelchair! I think she’ll be fine!” she jibed. “What is wrong with you people?”

“She’s right, Judy. Just go ahead and get Ollie back to his room, I’ll let you know if I need you back here.” The doctor agreed reassuringly, smiling as she grabbed one of the handles on Harley’s wheelchair. Judy reluctantly nodded and soon left, ushering the other patient down to the elevator. This left the lady doctor, who turned back to Harley.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t want to go see someone in the medical bay, do you?”

“That’s an option now?” Harley eyed the woman doubtfully. That was never a luxury back in Belle Reve unless she’d gotten a few serious lacerations from one of the guards. Even then that had also meant more feeding tubes, and more opportunities to be taunted.

“Yes. It’s always been an option, but if you think you’re fine—” She began, but stopped when looking at her watch. “Oh, shit. We were actually supposed to start your session five minutes ago…maybe we can pay the medical bay a visit afterwards?”

Oh wow, putting mental health first before physical health—that wasn’t something you saw everyday.

Harley didn’t protest, she already liked this doctor more than the guards, orderlies, and Jessie put together. At least she’d given her the option of a medical bay, none of her other doctors would’ve done jack shit unless she’d broken a bone. Still, she couldn’t help but feel she knew this doctor…now that she’d seen her face, it looked so dang familiar.

She pondered this, waiting as the doctor opened the door to the therapy room and grabbed the wheelchair handles, gently pushing Harley into the room. Harley observed the room while the doctor went back to close the door, noticing how light and airy it seemed next to the rest of the hospital. It, unlike the hallway walls, had a fresh coat of peach-colored paint over it and a whole shelf full of stuffed animals and board games sat tucked away in a corner, alongside several pads of papers and some art supplies.

“Cute. We gonna play scrabble or something?”  she quipped, earning a small laugh from the doctor as she walked her way around the table to where another chair was placed.

“Not today, unfortunately.” she said, grabbing up a clipboard, whilst also sitting down. “It _is_ something I like doing with my patients if I get the time, but we’re already short for time. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Aw, bummer...” Harley faked a pout and surveyed the room some more, going all the way back to where the doctor sat in front of her. A lanyard had fallen loose from her coat, the name “Joan Leland” scribbled across her staff badge. She gasped lightly.

 _Now_ she knew why she recognized her, man, it was starting to become a common theme for her to recognize people over these past few months. First Teddy, then Bruce Wayne…now, Joan Leland, who was actually someone she’d known personally.

“Joanie?” Dr. Leland looked up, surprised at the usage of her name. She’d been writing something on her clipboard, but stopped, the pen frozen in midair as she glanced across at Harley.

“What?”

“Joan. Joan Leland.” Harley cracked a tiny grin. “I know you, we used to work together.”

The other woman blinked, still just a tad startled, but that was soon replaced by what sounded like a sigh of relief as she sat her pencil down.

“I was wondering when you’d recognize me…” she mused, smiling. “I wasn’t going to say anything…it’s been so long since we’ve even seen each other. Well—I’ve seen you, on the news of course…”

The smile fell from Dr. Leland’s face, and she picked her pencil back up.

“…guess that’s why it took me so long to come back here.” she murmured, scribbling something down. Harley felt a small pang in her chest; not guilt—okay, maybe just a little bit of guilt—Joan had been her first real friend when she arrived at Arkham; having left not too soon after Joker’s mad breakout. Unlike Harley, she’d seen fit to actually seek help for the trauma she’d suffered and had been off God knows where for the past few years.

Now, seeing her again…this time, on the other side of the table. It was, to say the least, a bit weird.

Dr. Leland finishing writing on the paper, pushing her clipboard to the side. Coughing, she put the smile back on her face and folded her hands in front of her.

“But, all things considered…it is nice to see you again, Harley.”  she said, though she did sound a bit shaky. Almost made Harley wonder if she was being genuine.

“Yeah…feeling’s mutual…” Harley agreed, tipping her head. “But what brings ya back to Arkham? Last time we chatted, you swore you weren’t coming back…remember? The Joker’s huge breakout?”

“No need to remind me.” She sighed, the light above them flickering. So apparently this place still had poor electricity. “I wasn’t planning to ever come back, in fact I already had another job secured at another hospital.”

Leland moved to grabbing a separate pad of paper and flipped it open.

“Turns out after your last breakout, they were short another doctor and practically begged me to come back. Apparently, no one else wanted the job…can’t imagine why.”

Harley silently laughed; _she knew why._ She silenced at the look Leland was giving her.

“So…that’s why I’m here. And you…” She paused, taking a moment to glance at what was written on her clipboard. “You’re here as a temporary patient until you’re transferred to Belle Reve, correct?”

She didn’t get a clear response from Harley, only a harsh chortle. Sighing, Dr. Leland retrieved a sharper pencil from the jar on the table, pressing it to the pad of paper.

“That’s a yes then…” She wrote something down. “Okay then, Harley, since we’re short on time today, I figured we could just have a nice chat. How have you been doing since your admission?”

“How have I been doing!? Joanie, you can’t be serious.” Harley all but guffawed at the doctor, leaning forward in her seat.  “Look at my damn face, it’s all kinds of black and blue right now! Don’t even get me started on what I had for breakfast; you guys are lucky I’m not able to give you a Yelp review right now.”

“Well that—the food—that can’t be helped, Harley. I’m sorry, but it’s hospital food, it’s going to taste bad.” Leland wrote something else down, sighing. “And about that incident with Jessie—I’m sorry, I thought she’d already taken her meds today.”

“Yeah, well apparently she didn’t…” The air condition kicked in overhead them at the same time as the rain that had decided to grace the asylum, the latter of the two could be seen pouring down through the translucent curtains covering the windows. Dr. Leland finished writing, but looking back up towards Harley was a slow process. She almost seemed a little hesitant.

“Harley…” she started out, causing Harley to look back at her from where she’d previously been eyeing the downpouring rain out of boredom. “I’m sorry about that, really. When they told me you were here, I just knew…”

She paused, drumming her fingers against the desk.

 “I just knew it would cause some problems. With you having been a doctor here before, I wouldn’t imagine nobody would be too thrilled to see you.” she said. “They also told me you went through at least twelve other doctors in your previous imprisonments—”

“And a cat.”

“Yes, yes they mentioned the cat. But my point is, Harley, you need to start taking this seriously.” Leland took off her glasses, scooting her chair closer to the desk. “Whether or not you get to raise your child is weighing on your getting better, and that won’t happen unless you cooperate.”

“Oh, fuck off, Joan. I could be mentally healthy, and these fucks still wouldn’t let me raise my damn kid.” Harley spat back, suddenly incredibly spiteful at Leland’s words. What she herself had said was closer to the truth; they’d still count on her slipping back into her old ways, they’d be waiting with baited breath and her child would be doomed to be raised in a middle-class American family by a soccer mom and a dad who probably worked at a car lot. That thought alone made her want to shudder, but the idea of not getting to see her daughter grow up made her heart ache in the most painful way possible.

“You don’t know that, Harley, with the right care—"

“Don’t say that! Don’t fucking say that!” She retaliated, gripping onto the armrests tightly, face turning red. “What _right_ care do you mean??! They told you, Joan, I went through twelve damn doctors! _Twelve!!_ And you want to know why? Because they’re all dumb! They all think I’m sick, but I’m not! There’s nothing wrong with me!”

“And you should know that denial is the first step in realizing you have a problem.” Leland said, folding her arms as she leaned back in her seat. “You should know that better than anyone, Harley, for God’s sake, you used to work here. Don’t you miss that?”

“No!” Harley grumbled, flopping back in her seat. “I had a much better life after leaving here, thanks! I was free, there were no rules, no regulations! I could be whoever I wanted!”

“But _is_ that the kind of life you really want, Harley? What about a nice, quiet life, where you have a steady job?” The anger melted off of Harley’s face as Leland spoke. “You could pay bills, you could have a nice, big house…you could raise your daughter there, get married, have a real shot at a good life…don’t you want that?”

Slowly, remnants of Enchantress’ vision came into picture, Dr. Leland’s voice fuzzing out of Harley’s hearing. This time, she saw a house; a beautiful white cottage with red windowpanes, an immaculate flower garden in the front yard. She saw the front door opening as someone, whom she could only assume was her, stepped outside, dressed in a fuzzy pink bathrobe, hair up in curlers and slippers on her feet. A slow smile came across Harley’s face as she saw herself holding a baby on one hip, as she straightened the tie of the handsome, well-dressed man next to her. Now she was kissing the man, and handing his briefcase to him as he headed towards the sports car parked in the driveway.

Then a little girl ran past her.

She was sure Dr. Leland was still talking, but she’d stopped listening by now. All she could pay attention to was the little girl, who was dressed in a school uniform. She had curly blonde hair, like Harley’s before she jumped into the chemicals, and it was pulled back in two pigtails as she raced out to the car, giggling and laughing. Her mother called after her, sending the girl running back to retrieve the paper sack that contained her lunch, and her mother pecked her on the cheek before sending her back to her father. She waved goodbye to the two of them as they got inside the car.

The car started, and pulled out of the driveway, driving down a picturesque neighborhood, leaving Harley and the baby on the front porch. She continued waving until the car disappeared, and kissed the top of her baby’s head, before heading back inside and shutting the door. At the click of the door lock, Harley snapped out of her hallucination.

“…Harley?”

The smile started to shrink.

“Harley, are you listening to me?”

_No…_

What’d she just seen…was impossible. It had been a lovely thing to look at, but it was just impossible. That wasn’t what she wanted, was it? Well, yes it was, but not like _that!_ That cottage should’ve been the penthouse, the neighborhood should’ve been Gotham City, and the man…he should’ve been her puddin’. But he wasn’t.

And her daughter…

That’s what her mad the most of all. It was almost a taunt for her brain to show her that, reminding her that getting to see her child off to school was not a factor in her future. That she’d no doubt still be behind bars, and some other woman would be seeing her daughter off to school; worse, dropping her off…

The anger came back on her face, fingers pressing down enough for one of her nails to crack.

“That’s…not what I want…” she said, lowly, Dr. Leland lifting a brow in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not what I want.” Harley repeated herself, lifting her head languidly, to stare back at the doctor. “I don’t want a nice big house…I don’t want a garden, I don’t wanna live in a fancy neighborhood…that’s not me. That’s not who I am. I want my penthouse back, my big cars, our hot tub…I want to dance at the club again…”

Dr. Leland was staring at her now too, a serious expression on her face as she listened. She wasn’t writing anything down, Harley taking this as her signal to continue talking.

“I want to drive through the city at night, I want to feel what it’s like to shoot a gun again…I miss shooting guns, doc, I miss my bat, my mallet, my knives…my…” She ran her tongue over her dry lips, releasing a shaky breath from between them. “…my puddin’…I miss him most of all.”

_You’re finally admitting it to yourself? After all this time?_

Yes, yes she was. But it didn’t feel good to do, not when she knew he wasn’t missing her. If he had, he’d be here by now.

Leland still wasn’t writing anything, but she released a loud sigh as she unfolded her arms, pulling up her pad of paper closer to the edge of the table.

“And…your ‘puddin’….” she wondered, picking up her pencil. “You’ve been with him, this whole time?”

“…not recently, but—”

“—but for the most part?” Leland interrupted, pointing her pencil Harley’s way. “See, this is what I’m talking about Harley. This life you’ve created for yourself, it’s not real. It’s not who you are…the Joker manipulated you, he used you to break himself out, and how did he thank you?”

“Joan…please…” Harley pressed her eyelids shut. She didn’t want to hear it; not the same spiel she’d heard from other doctors. She was thinking that Leland might be different, but here she was; talking in the same way, having the same mannerisms as the others. It was like all these doctors had gone to the same seminar or something.

“Don’t ‘Joan, please’ me, Harleen Quinzel. I was there that day, I saw those men dragging you off.” Leland retorted, slamming both palms on the table, in the process, almost crushing the pencil she was still holding. She looked angry, now that Harley opened her eyes to look across at her.  “When they found you, you were strapped on a medical table. You had burn marks on the sides of your heads, bruises…”

She stopped, pressing her hand against her throat, her expression softening.

“It made me sick to see you like that, Harley…” she said. “And seeing you like this…like how you are now, it just worries me. How? How could you even fathom staying with that man after what he did to you? Let alone have his child?”

_Wow, look at her. She has more common sense than you and I put together; it’s amazing! Listen to her, Harley, she’s telling the truth! She’s telling you all that I’ve been telling you, are you going to ignore her too?_

**_I’d love nothing more…_ **

_But you can’t, can you? You know she’s right, you know she has a point. Look where all our years of loyalty have left us; knocked up and locked up, we’re lucky Joker never actually killed us. Why’d we ever stay with him? What was he to us?_

“He was ours! That’s what he was!” Harley snapped out loud, earning a surprised look from Dr. Leland. “I stayed with him because he was mine, and I was his! We were equals, we lived for eachother! And…and…”

The lump that she had just now realized was forming in her throat doubled; all but making her choke on her words.

“And…I loved him, damn it. That’s why I stayed…”

She fell quiet, tightening her lips together. Dr. Leland didn’t even respond, only biting her own lip, and picking her pencil back up again. She looked at Harley for a good minute, then quietly began writing something else on the paper. The room was soon filled with nothing but the sound of her pencil scribbling and the rain pattering outside on the windows, Harley not making a peep from her chair. She wanted to cry, but she refused to let Leland see her like this. That would only further prove her point, and that was not what she desired right now.

No, she knew what she desired. But she wasn’t going to get it.

“Harley…”

A small, quiet voice, caused her head to jolt up.

_I know that voice…_

Her eyes travelled to the farthest corner of the room, where the shelf of games and toy animals sat. And next to that shelf, sat… _Teddy??!_ What the hell was he doing here—no, how had he gotten in here, was the bigger question.  She blinked several times over, but he was still there, a stuffed zebra in his hands. He was picking at a loose seam on it, and glanced up at Harley, a tiny smile on his face.

“Hiya.” He waved at her, making her mouth drop ajar.

“Teddy!?? What the hell…what are you doing here?” she asked in a quiet voice, so as not to alarm Dr. Leland. But Teddy didn’t answer her, only continuing to smile eerily as he went back to picking at the stuffing on the zebra.

“Teddy…Teddy, hey! I’m talkin’ to you, kid!” she hissed, gaining Dr. Leland’s attention. The boy continued to ignore Harley, now having ripped the seam of the zebra completely open. He was tossing stuffing out now, dropping it on the ground.

“Hey, you little shit! Stop that!”

“Harley, are you alright?” She glanced back, now seeing Dr. Leland’s concerned expression. Both eyebrows were furrowed and she was frowning. Harley huffed, motioning her head towards the corner where Teddy was.

“That—that kid, there’s a kid over there! He’s messing with one of your stuffies!” she insisted, Teddy spitting his tongue out at her. Dr. Leland still looked doubtful,  but Harley’s nods became more insistent, prompting her to look back. She stared, then turned back to Harley, the concern even greater on her face.

“Harley…what are you talking about?”

Harley’s brows creased, her mouth remaining open. She looked back to Teddy, almost yelping at the sight of him now tearing off the zebra’s head. How had Leland not seen him, he was right there? That little bitch was getting away with murder right now!

“That…that kid! That kid in the corner!”

“Harley, I don’t understand, you aren’t making any sense.” Dr. Leland slowly sat her pencil down, pushing that and her pad of paper aside. “What kid?”

“He’s in the corner, I—"

“Harley, I just looked, there’s no one over there. We’re the only ones in this room.”

“ _What?_ ” Harley’s attention went back to Teddy. Now that she looked closer at him…and the zebra in his hands, she swore she could see…what was that…was that… _blood?_ Whatever it was, it was oozing out of the stub where the zebra’s head used to be, bubbling up like the bubbles she used to blow out in her chocolate milk.  Jaw now quivering and slack, her eyes moved up to Teddy, seeing his face…the same blood seemed to be oozing out of his mouth. A wide, sinister grin overtook his small face, and he dropped the zebra to the ground, getting up from his knees.

 Suddenly, it seemed a whole lot darker on that side of the room.

Harley couldn’t find her voice, only staring in shock and horror as Teddy opened his mouth to talk, more blood pouring from his mouth.

“Harl _eeeyyy_ …” His voice sounded distorted, his cheeks looking like they were starting to sink into his face. He started to walk towards her and she felt her entire body shaking, as she tried scooting back to no avail.

“Who…what…what the hell are you?” she croaked, not able to hear Dr. Leland through the overwhelming sound of her own heart pounding. That, plus the thunder that now seemed to be cracking outside, was overpowering, only getting worse the closer Teddy got. His features were incredibly gaunt, his hair now falling out, eyes glazing over.

“You should know, Harley…you should know, you’re the one who killed me…” His voice was even more distorted now, Harley shaking her head quickly. “You’re the reason I’m dead, Harley.”

“No…no, I don’t know you! I don’t remember killing you!” she screamed, still trying her best to back up. “I would’ve remembered!”

She would have, that wasn’t a lie. She always remembered the faces of people she’d killed, probably not as well as Joker did, but she always remembered the looks they had. Faces of fear, of terror…probably the same face she had right now. She did not remember this child, she didn’t remember doing anything to him. She’d only been talking to him for nine months with the assumptions he was a normal kid.

“But you didn’t want to remember…” His eyeballs fell loose from their sockets, dropping down his face and rolling across the floor to Harley’s wheelchair. The thunder was becoming even louder outside. “You never want to remember, you won’t let yourself.”

It was amazing Harley was screaming louder, but her blood went cold as she saw Harleen standing behind Teddy, not looking half as rotted…but younger. Her hair was in long pigtails, like how she’d used to wear her hair back in college. She stepped up behind the now-zombified child, placing her hands around him in the same mannerism a mother might. She smiled down at Harley, her expression the same matching type of sinister that Teddy’s was.

_“I can’t believe you, Harley…what kind of mother can’t recognize their child?”_

“He’s not my child! He’s—” Harley started, screaming, but stopped. She looked at Teddy again, mind going back to what she thought the first time she’d seen him.

_He’d looked like the kid version of her old professor…_

Her professor…she’d flunked the midterm her first semester…but how come she also remembered getting a passing grade?

 _“You know why, Harley…”_ Harleen chuckled, shaking her head. _“Us women…always using our bodies to get what we want. Remember going to his office, with that wine bottle? Wasn’t that a fun night?”_

…shit.

It all made sense now.

Her breath hitching, Harley forced herself to stare down at the rotting child again. She stared, eyes wide and mouth quivering. He was practically a corpse now…a corpse that was outstretching it’s arms, and letting out a loud, horrifying screech as it all but barreled out of Harleen’s grasp, latching onto Harley as she screamed and thrashed. Teddy’s boney hands grabbed at her stomach, tearing at it as Harley was too helpless to fight back, her arms restrained.

“Get off me! Get off! Please!” she wailed, the fabric of her shirt ripping. “Why are you tormenting me!?? I thought I pushed you out of my head! I did! I pushed you out, you’re dead!  You’ve been dead for eight years! Why are you bothering me now!?”

 _“Aw, poor Harley…don’t act like you don’t know…”_ Harleen was scolding her. _“Think about it. You’re locked up, about to have a baby…you’re clearly scared.”_

“No—no I’m not! I’m not scared, shut up!”

_“Tsk tsk, naughty Harley…”_

Another wailing screech emitted from Teddy, his fingers now digging into her bare midsection. Blood seeped out, pain rippled, causing Harley to scream in pain. More blood, more pain—he kept tearing at her flesh, not stopping. Harley’s screams only grew louder and she threw her head back, tears pouring from her eyes as she squeezed them shut.

_“You and I both know that’s bullshit…you are scared. You’re terrified, in fact. Terrified that you won’t ever be a good parent, terrified that you’re going to fail again. And you’re only just now realizing it.”_

Loud harsh laughter caused her eyes to fly open, and travel straight to the corner where Teddy had previously been standing. Only, someone else seemed to be standing there now. A dark, looming figure, who stepped out whilst continuing to laugh, loudly. Striking green hair and a rich purple coat, a wide, maniacal grin, that only spread the more he laughed.

“Pu…puddin’?” Harley choked. He didn’t respond, just kept laughing loudly, pointing his finger at her. More flesh teared, blood now seeping out on the floor. By now, Harleen vanished into the air, a mere cloud of black smoke, lightening flashing outside. Harley felt her head spinning, felt like throwing up, and her throat hurt. It hurt from screaming, it hurt from crying, but she couldn’t stop. Not when she knew Harleen was right.  Reality was really sinking in now, it was sinking in and it hurt way more than whatever Teddy was doing to her, but perhaps not quite as much as Joker’s laughter hurt her.

_She’d lost one baby, a long time ago, of her own choice. Now she was going to lose another one._

“Harley…! Harley!”

She barely heard Leland through her own screaming, the thunder having stopped. Barely heard the door being slammed open, footsteps running to the door as Leland called out for someone. And when the orderlies had finally run in to sedate her, her screams had died down to quiet sobs. Thankfully, this drug hadn’t seemed to knock her out, only seeming to calm her down.

But this didn’t stop the tears, even as she was being escorted back to her room.

* * *

 

The drug had worn off a short time after the orderlies had dropped her off in her room, having to have escorted her to her bed, where she now lay as a sobbing, hysteric wreck. The minute she was out of her daze, everything had come flooding back—all the hallucinations, Teddy, Harleen…Joker. She couldn’t stop herself from just sobbing loudly, and she smacked her fists against the walls, her head as well, screaming angrily, wailing.

Her face was entirely stained in tears, cheeks and eyes all red and swollen. It hurt, it _hurt_ so goddamn much, and it wasn’t fair! She never liked admitting Harleen was right…but she was right this time. She was scared, she was so fucking fearful now. Her daughter was going to be taken from her, she’d never get to see her, and she’d be doomed to be someone else’s lackey the rest of her life. Waller would no doubt have that ticking time bomb put back in her head and she’d have to live with that threat until she was stupid enough to let it explode.

And her puddin’ wouldn’t care. He could go back to the way things were before he had her with him; she could quit being his ball and chain, and all would be well in his world. She could die, and he would never know.

_But…Ivy…_

Yeah, Ivy was probably the only one who still cared. And Selina. But they didn’t know she was here, they wouldn’t know where to look for her even if they discovered she was missing. Regardless, she still couldn’t stop herself from feeling wretched, falling onto her back as at long last, she’d tired herself of hitting the walls.

Her sobs became softer, tiny thuds tapping at her midsection. She drew in a shaky breath, pressing a hand to where the kicks were coming from.

“You always seem to know when I’m sad, dontcha baby…” she whispered, another kick serving as the baby’s response. Harley giggled.

“I guess that’s a yes then…” She sniffled and wiped off the lingering tears from her cheeks. The kicks lessened, but Harley didn’t move her hand from where she’d left it. “Yeah, I’m sorry, kiddo…I don’t want you being sad, you’re not even born yet. I just wanted better for ya, you know?”

No kicks as a response, but she did feel her stirring a teensy bit. Rubbing her stomach, Harley looked up towards the ceiling, and towards the window, where she could still hear it raining. Oddly perfect in her current situation, but she didn’t mind it. It was actually kind of soothing…and she needed more pleasant noises to fill her ears after that Teddy-abomination’s wretched, sickly screaming and the Joker-hallucination’s laughter…she didn’t know which of those two had been worse. The screeching had hurt her ears, sure, but the laughing…that had hurt every part of her to hear.

A small thunder crash startled her, but it had come from the outside this time, not another hallucination. Goodness knows she wouldn’t be able to stand it if she went back in to one of those, and she would if she didn’t get her mind off this shit. Yet, she couldn’t. The screeching and laughing still replayed themselves, until the laughing became the more permanent sound.

_Would he be doing that, if he saw her right now?_

There was no doubt that if that rotted Teddy had been real, he’d no doubt be screeching right in her face. He’d delight in seeing her suffer, why wouldn’t he be when she was the reason he was dead?

_Would Mister J share in his delight, too?_

Maybe it was best not to think about that. After that whole entire session, she was adamant in the fact that she still missed him. She’d tried to ignore that feeling for the whole nine months, tried not to think about him and had pushed it off so long, that it was no wonder he’d came surging back into her mind like that.

Sucking in her lip, she looked down at her stomach, tapping one finger against it. In response, the baby’s leg stretched out, kicking at her mother’s hand. Harley smiled, tapping several more times to garner the same response. Around the fifth time, the baby had stopped, clearly having tired of this game.

“Bored, huh? Yeah me too, princess.” Harley agreed, folding her other hand atop the other. “I bet if your daddy was here…we wouldn’t be bored. He always made rainy days fun…”

This garnered one more kick from the child,  as if the mention of her father had piqued her interest. Harley looked again, before laying her head back on the pillow.

“You wanna hear about your daddy?” she asked. Another kick, Harley sighing. “Okay, I guess I might as well, while I get the chance. I wasn’t really planning on telling ya until you were older…but…”

She pushed herself up, grunting, and adjusted herself against the bed’s small headboard and pillow.

“…but considering I’m not going to be the one taking care of you…someone might as well fill you in on where you came from.”

So, she began her story; telling it to her daughter as if she were telling a fairytale. She spoke of how she’d met Joker, their first conversation, talking about the things he’d did, the things they had done together. She talked about their wild car rides, their escapades in the city... speaking of nothing but the best times of her life, telling it to her daughter with great care and love, all the while both hands wrapped around her stomach, caressing it lovingly.

“And then, right as I thought I was a goner…your daddy pulled me out of those chemicals…” she spoke softly. “I remember opening my eyes and seeing him…I thought I was dreaming, until he kissed me. And I kissed him…we kissed for so long, I don’t even remember…”

Pausing, she smiled.

“But…it was the most magical moment of my life.”

She glanced downwards, placing a kiss on her palm, which she then returned to her stomach.

“It’s that same magic that made you, sweetie. I only wish your daddy could realize it…he would love you, he would love if you tried…that’s the only reason we aren’t home with him right now.”

A few kicks this time. Her smile shrinking, Harley removed her hands and laid her head against the wall, exhaling.

“Yeah…yeah, I wanna be home too, baby…I miss home too.”

Unbeknownst to Harley, her conversation had not gone unnoticed. As she went back to telling more stories to her baby, Joan Leland stood next to her cell door, having been listening intently for the past eight minutes. She nibbled at her lip, and sighed, walking away.

* * *

 

Joan exited the elevator on the first floor, making her way to the east wing where her office was. It was only 10:30 in the morning, but she’d be lying if she said Harley’s session had already taken half her energy for that day. She just needed to find a cup of coffee and get to work on sorting through her notes; she hadn’t taken much, but a lot of what had happened was still new in her mind. A lot of what Harley had said…was sticking with her, and after what she’d just heard…she wasn’t sure what to think.

Having reached her office, she opened the door and was prepared to make a beeline straight for her travel coffee mug, which she’d left cooling earlier, but stumbled short in her tracks at the sight of Amanda Waller standing at her desk, her back turned and arms folded. The door fell shut, alerting Waller to Leland’s presence, and she turned around, still remaining in the same position.

“You’re a bit later, doctor. I thought your sessions only ran until 10:00.” she said, Leland noticing her mug clasped in one of Waller’s hands. She eyed it as Waller held it out, and unwittingly stepped closer. The air in this room already felt a lot thicker than it needed to be, despite the air conditioner still being on.

Stopping in front of Waller, Leland stared at her for a moment, and snatched her mug back.

“10:15, actually.” she stated. “I told you I’d tell you once I was done.”

She headed to the back of her desk, turning on her computer. Waller turned towards her, unfolding her arms with a small shake of her head.

“I’m not a patient woman, Dr. Leland.” She leaned against the desk, grasping its edges. “And I’m getting the feeling that you aren’t either, so let’s make this quick. What’s going on with Harley Quinn? I hear you had a very interesting talk with her…”

Joan stopped mid-sip of her coffee, glancing back up at Waller.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t? Well maybe I was watching the wrong security footage then.” Waller raised an eyebrow, causing Dr. Leland to gulp. She sat her mug down next to her keyboard, clearing her throat.

“Ms. Waller…I’m sorry, I know you wanted more positive results but…” Vaguely shrugging, Dr. Leland placed both hands beside her, scooting back from the computer. “I don’t know if Harley’s mentally competent enough to be going back on your team. She’s still showcasing various symptoms—if I had to diagnose on a first basis, I’d say she’s on some severe level of schizophrenia that’ll only get worse if not treated. I just don’t know if temporary sessions are going to help her out, any.”

“Then what are you proposing? Because I’ve already made it pretty clear she’s going back on my team. Mentally competent or not.”

“I…” Leland wanted to object to Waller’s last statement, but stopped, biting her lip. “Let me continue seeing her, even when she’s back in prison. I can have personal sessions with her in-between her task missions. I won’t ask for pay but…I’d feel a lot better if I knew she was still getting the right care.”

She finished, Waller observing her silently.

“Okay, Dr. Leland. That can be arranged.” she said, nodding stiffly after about a moment.

Joan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Ms. Waller.”

She pushed her chair back to her computer, assuming their conversation was over. But when she checked, Waller wasn’t seeming like she was about to leave.

“Ms. Waller…if you don’t mind, I have a report to type up…”

“Oh, I mind. I just had one more question for you.” Waller placed a hand on her hip, stepping back from the desk. “You were able to talk Ms. Quinn today, when do you think she’ll be ready to give birth?”

“I…what?” Joan squinted, clearly dumbfounded by this question. “I’m not that kind of doctor, I can’t…”

She stopped, noticing the impatience on Waller’s face. Clearly, she was expecting an answer and was probably not going to leave until she got it. She’d just have to wing it the best she could.

“…okay, I don’t know for sure, but judging by how far along she is…” Joan took out her glasses from her skirt pocket, placing them on. “I’d say it wouldn’t be…too much longer…”

This garnered a smile from Waller.

“Thank you, Dr. Leland. That helps.” She turned around, opening the door. Leland watched as she left, and was amazed at how the air in the room seemed to lighten the minute the door was closed. Shuddering, she shook her head and went back to typing at her computer.

Outside in the hall, Waller began walking and took an earpiece out from her bag, clipping it to her ear. She stopped at the end of the hallway, and looked around first before speaking. There really wasn’t anyone else in this part of the hospital at this present moment, just a janitor mopping at some dried up substance on the floor. He didn’t even look like he was paying attention, so Waller took this as her chance to turn her earpiece on.

“Nathan? You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, boss. What do you need?”

“Find a medical doctor and have them meet me somewhere private. I need to ask him some questions regarding Harley Quinn.”

She passed right by the janitor while she spoke, not even noticing that he looked up the minute Harley’s name was mentioned. He stopped his mopping and watched her walk around a corner, disappearing from his viewpoint. Placing his mop back into the cart, he removed a cellphone from his own pocket and dialed a number, waiting while the device rang on the other end.

Finally, the ringing stopped, and Frost’s voice answered.

“Yeah?”

“Tell the boss I’m on my way back.” The “janitor” removed his cap, tossing it into the cart.  “I’ve got news he isn’t going to like.”


	20. Chapter 20

Thunder clapped overhead of Gotham, loud enough to where you might think it would rattle the entire city. It was a rare day where next to no one was out on the street, the rain coming down so heavy that it might knock down the one soul that decided to venture outside. If not for the gutters, the roads would surely be flooded by this point, and that would just be downright unfortunate for the few cars that were brave enough venture down the slick road.

One car in particular, a huge Mustang in the hue of a dark red, whirred past one other lone vehicle, sending a wave of rain water splashing onto it. The thunder and lightning drowned out any sounds of a protesting car horn, but that was the last thing on the other driver’s mind. He was all but sending waves onto the sidewalk, turning a sharp corner.

No, none of that was his focus. His primary focus was getting back to the Joker’s penthouse.

When he had called Frost to alert him of what he’d overheard back at Arkham, his boss had been quick to snatch the phone and yell at him to “get his ass back here”, and he knew better than to keep the Joker waiting. The weather report had warned against anyone driving today, and while staying back at the hospital might’ve been safer, it just wasn’t an option right now. Not after the information he’d just learned.

 _Oooh_ _boy_ , relaying this to Mister J would not be fun.

At last, he reached the penthouse and stopped the vehicle, jumping out and running inside as quick as possible, barely managing to avoid slipping on the wet concrete.

Inside, it was all but vacant in the penthouse, save for just one room, that room being the Joker’s office. A whole entourage, which consisted of several other henchmen, Poison Ivy, Johnny Frost, and the Joker, had all gathered there earlier that morning, a whole map of Arkham Asylum’s entire floorplan was spread out on the desk.  It was the only thing on that whole desk, everything else having been shoved onto the floor, and the only thing that anyone in that room was paying attention to, but to say they were any close to formulating any kind of legit escape plan for Harley would be a bit of a stretch.

Forget the fact they’d been at this consistently for two days already, but with Sam, who was off playing spy in Arkham, the Joker had insisted they wait until he got back to put any semblance of a plan they did have into action. He did seem just a bit anxious at the idea of waiting, but he had to know what they were up against since Amanda Waller was involved. This couldn’t just be one of his routine breakouts; careful wasn’t exactly his middle name, but his kingdom was at stake should he make one wrong move.

Because this time, it wasn’t just Harley depending on him to break out.

The time on the clock read 10:40 AM, and everyone in the room had been there since 7:00. This had been routine for the past couple of days, and it was evident that everyone’s lack of sleep was starting to get to them. Well, the henchmen’s’ lack of sleep, anyways, most of them were either seated on the one lone sofa that was placed in the office or huddled over on the other side of the room, either yawning or staring lifelessly into their coffee mugs. Ivy still seemed pretty alert, and by now she and Frost were the only ones even still at the desk, the Joker brooding near the window, arms folded behind his back as he observed the city before him, on the water droplets making themselves at home on the windowpanes.

He still stood by his earlier statements; he absolutely _detested_ having to wait. Two days wasn’t a lot but every waking moment he had to spend with the imagery of Harley, tightly bound and screaming in terrified anger...it was eating at him, had been eating at him for days and hours on end, and probably why he couldn’t focus until he knew how she was doing.

That was probably why they didn’t have a decent plan yet. Though several times over these past couple of days, Ivy had been one of the few who had attempted to make some suggestions as to how they could execute the whole escape plan.

 _“We could just scale to the high-risk floor and throw in some of my toxins to knock the guards out,”_ She’d made this suggestion earlier this morning, even Frost and some of the other guys had seemed fine with that idea. But Joker had shot it down.

_“No, we aren’t doing anything until we know what’s going on.”_

That was the most he had said all day, let alone in the time they’d been mulling this thing over. The most progress they had made was when Frost had come back on that first day, carrying with him a freshly-printed floorplan of Arkham Asylum.  It’d been a smart idea to find a newer copy, because as the Joker expected, there were some slight differences on it. It didn’t look like anything too complicated, though, just a few room renovations and additions, including a much larger medical bay than he remembered there being.

It was impressive to see they’d managed to find funding for renovations, but it also baffled him as to how this place was still functioning after how many times he’d broken out of there.  They’d probably spent half their money on renovations and re-staffing, no thanks to the constant bombs and gunfire that had damaged the place, and especially no thanks to him or Harley’s antics.

Being thrown in and breaking out was always a fun game, but he knew he had to take this one seriously. He never liked taking things seriously, but this time…this time, it was the only option. Bats had gone too far, he’d _cheated_. It was like they were in a constant game of chess; and twice, _twice,_ within the timespan of the same year, the Bat had stolen Joker’s queen piece.

_And if there was a princess piece, he’d taken that too._

Thank God that henchman was coming back today, else he would have allowed himself to listen to Ivy’s idea. And he really didn’t want to go through with any plan unless it was his own, and it needed to be as carefully executed as possible.

He’d even expressed this after Ivy had wanted to know what he had against her ideas, and that was probably why she hadn’t attempted to offer any more of them. She was probably just as bewildered as the rest of the henchmen at the Joker’s sudden attitude change; she still couldn’t place it, why he was suddenly being so careful and serious about this whole thing. Even now, she looked at him standing near the window, and had to look back at Frost with a questioning expression.

All he could was offer a shrug. Even he didn’t know what was going on, exactly…except for the fact that he did. Well, he didn’t know entirely, but after his and Joker’s conversation prior to Ivy and Melissa showing back up at the penthouse empty-handed, he had some kind of idea as to what had caused this change in behavior. But he had wisely decided not to tell anyone; he knew his boss didn’t like to be viewed as vulnerable, and the words he’d shared that day were ones that he didn’t want to be shared with anyone at this present moment.

More thunder cracks, another lightening flash. Perfect timing too, because the door to the study flew open past the fourth thunder crack, and Sam rushed in, carrying a trail of rainwater in with him while it dripped from his long coat. This got everyone’s attention, though the only one who bothered moving was the Joker, who snapped his head around at the sound of the door shutting and immediately charged over to the henchman, who was shrugging off his coat.

“What the _hell_ took you so long?” he seethed, feet pounding against the floor almost as loud as the thunder was clapping, and came to an abrupt stop in front of the other man. “We’ve been waiting here for over fifty minutes!”

“Forty-five, actually.” Ivy corrected, from the desk. “He only called us forty-five minutes ago, Joker.”

“Don’t correct me, I said what I said.” Joker huffed, as Sam hung his coat up on the rack nearby. Ivy lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug, and went back to surveying the floor plans. “But that doesn’t change the fact that that’s still a fucking long time to wait, what did you do, stop for drive-through?”

“I wouldn’t have been able to if even I wanted to, nobody’s even supposed to be out driving right now.” Sam said, turning from the rack. “I’m sorry Mister J, I was trying to get back as fast I could, honest.”

“Shut up, I don’t want any excuses.” The Joker snapped, squaring his shoulders as Sam walked back over to him. “I’m more concerned in knowing what you found out, now what’s the situation over there?”

That was something they all wanted to know, and Sam would be wise to not delay on informing them. Fortunately, he didn’t seem like he wanted to, because the minute after Joker had asked him, he walked back over, beginning to relay the information he had found out. He’d spent the first evening staked out in the janitor’s closet, flipping through some random magazine, that is, until he was called up to the high-risk floor to take care of some mess a patient had made. Turns out, that patient had been Harley, who’d not taken too lightly to her meal and had overturned the tray when the orderly had attempted to forcefully feed her.

“Apparently, she didn’t recognize me, not that I’d have gotten a chance to talk to her anyways.” Sam scuffed his foot against the ground, both hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket. “She was throwing a real fit, they ended having to sedate her. Wasn’t even the first time either, I overheard another orderly saying they had to sedate her as soon as they wheeled her inside that morning.”

Joker seethed at the imagery of such a thing, clenching his grills atop one another. So, apparently that place didn’t even have any special privileges for an expectant mother seeing as how they were all too willing to pump her full of drugs at every chance they got.

“Did you see her, at least?” Ivy spoke up, concern lacing her tone, which was often uncommon with her unless it was something concerning Harley. “How…how is she doing?”

“Only saw her briefly, but what I saw didn’t look too promising.” Sam admitted, making Ivy’s face crease with worry. “I figured it was only because it’s her last month of pregnancy, you know? Last month’s always the worst, or at least, that’s what my wife says…”

He stopped, brushing his hand over his mouth.

“But, uh…” His hand fell to his side. “Either way, she’s not doing too hot, Mister J. And with what I overheard today, the sooner we get her out of there the better.”

“No shit, that’s the whole idea of this breakout, Samuel.” The Joker snapped, both his hands shaking anxiously before he clenched them together. All those horrid images of Harley were still in the back of his mind and he hated that he was feeling so worried, this just wasn’t normal for him. But then again, this wouldn’t be the first time, would it?

“I know, boss, so—”

“Ah-ah, hold on. You’re not off the hook yet.” He interrupted Sam, strolling over to him. “You still have something else to tell me, remember? Or did you forget the bit where you told me, over the phone, there was something I wasn’t going to like?”

He stopped, jutting out his chin.

“So, tell me. What is this thing that ah…that I’m not going to like?”

The last word rolled off his tongue as he clucked it, snapping his mouth shut. At this, Sam looked almost hesitant, but thankfully he decided against prolonging anything and inhaled, shoving his stray hand back into the pocket it was formerly in. It still seemed to take a minute for him to speak, but when he did, he sounded nervous. And with his word choices, he definitely had good reason to be.

“I…I can’t say for sure, sir, but…” His hand wriggled in his pocket, foot tapping the floor. “I…I think they’re planning something for Ms. Quinn and the baby. I overheard Amanda Waller telling one of her guys to find some medical doctor, said she had something she needed to discuss with them. Something regarding Harley.”

Ivy lightly gasped and covered her mouth, not even wanting to fathom what that “something” could possibly be. She looked at Joker, who had gone entirely rigid. You’d almost mistake him for a statue with how still he’d gone. Sam had wisely backed away by this point, and even Frost was standing some ways back, still positioned at the desk.

None of them said anything to him either, leaving him be. His hands had gone unclenched, and they had stopped shaking, his steel blue eyes darting about as he mentally processed Sam’s words. His breathing grew heavier, heart racing.

They were planning something…for his Harley? He could only imagine a number of things, what it could possibly be, and none of those outcomes looked good. No, he was sure any of those outcomes would no doubt end with Harley back in Belle Reve, their daughter off in some shitty foster home, and Joker would be back to square one, minus his partner in crime, minus the spawn of their escapades.

_And who could tell how his mind would be after that?_

...

There was no time to wait anymore.

In a matter of seconds, he’d sped back to the desk, placing his hands over the Arkham floorplans. He looked back, noticing his henchmen were only staring at him, and growled, snapping his fingers, waving them all over. The table was soon surrounded by the entirety of the individuals in the room, as Joker scanned the map.

“Alright…alright, here’s what we can do.” he started, clearing his throat to fight off the shakiness in his voice. “Our first move will be to take out whoever’s guarding the gate, but only _before_ he can alert anyone. Plant, think you can handle that?”

“Consider it done.” Ivy agreed.

“Okay, good. As for the rest of you,” He turned to one half of the henchmen. “You’ll all scatter onto different levels of the hospital, keep the security busy for me and Frost while we make our way up to high-risk. Once we’re there, we’ll dispose of anyone up there and get Harley out. That’s when we’ll split up with the vehicles, one group of you can lead the police on a wild goose chase while me and Harley get out of the city.”

He stepped back up, rolling the map back up as all the henchmen murmured amongst themselves in agreement to the idea.

“Now, that’s the plan. Any objections?”

No one objected, all shaking their heads.

“Awesome. Now…. all of you, get out and get ready.” He cocked his head in the direction of the door, signaling for everyone to leave. They all departed, except for Sam, who was briefly stopped by the Joker.

“Not so fast, you. You get a special job.” he said, dropping the rolled-up floorplans back onto the desk.  “Since you did such a great job playing spy, you get the honors of picking up Harley’s sister from the hotel and heading out to the hideout ahead of time. Got it?”

“Got it, sir. Of course.” Sam nodded, then headed out, shortly followed by Frost and Ivy, Ivy stopping briefly to look back at Joker as he was leaned over his desk again. She stared, trying to search her mind for an answer as to what was going on. She still couldn’t wrap her finger around it; nine months ago, the Joker was so willing to leave Harley and their kid for dead, but he’d just orchestrated an escape plan in a matter of five minutes.

She pondered attempting to get another answer out of him, but she’d tried enough in the time that had passed. It was clear he wasn’t going to budge, or at least, not tell her anything. That was just how it had to be, she supposed. She’d find out one way or another what his real intentions were, unless this whole rescuing Harley thing _was_ his real intention.

Either way, this was a new side to the Joker that even she hadn’t seen before.  A side he’d let slip out, and one that Gotham had plenty reason to fear. He’d proven many times he’d break down walls to have Harley back, walls that she had no doubt broken down many times herself. Ivy didn’t understand any of it, nor did she desire to try, but Harley was her best friend. If it turned out this was all a rouse for him to get rid of her baby, she’d gladly break that “no hurting” promise she’d made a long time ago.

_But would he be putting in this much effort if that were the case?_

“Ms. Isley.”

A small grunt from Frost alerted her into quickly shutting the door, the thunder rumbling and echoing as if it had come from inside the other room.

And it might as well have, considering what was on the other side of it.

* * *

 

_She was nowhere._

_The voices echoed, screaming nonsense at her, the most prominent being those of Harleen and Teddy. Every step had grown more painful the further she walked, feeling as if glass was sprouting up from the ground, shredding her feet. Blood trailed behind her, Harley now stumbling, the voices growing even louder. But she couldn’t run, couldn’t hide. There was nowhere to go._

_A door had appeared in her line of sight, the only visible object in the mass white void she was trapped in. Closer, closer it grew…by the time she reached it, she practically fell upon the doorknob, twisting it open. Quickly stumbling inside, she slammed the door shut. The voices were muffled now, slowly growing quieter._

_Her breathing shallow, Harley pressed her head against the door, listening, waiting, until Harleen had permanently shut up, until she couldn’t hear Teddy’s obnoxious moaning. A tiny creak made her head turn, vision observing what looked like an empty rocking chair. And next to it, a little white crib, surrounded by a thin, red curtain. A wind breezed through the apparent room, though there was no window. The curtains parted, a soft, tiny, cry escaping from within the crib’s bars._

_She knew she shouldn’t walk towards it. She knew she should’ve stayed back, but she couldn’t stop herself. The cries just grew louder, drowning out any last remnants of the other voices, Harley’s bloody feet dragging themselves closer and closer towards it. She held her breath upon reaching it, hands daring to grab at the curtains. Her lips tightened, she gripped the fabric tightly and ripped them back, diving her head towards the inside of the crib._

_There was…nothing._

_Harley’s face crinkled, looking back up. She could still hear the crying…somewhere…somewhere in this room, her baby was here. Turning around, she could see that the door had disappeared, the non-existent walls of the room transitioning into padded ones.  Her baby’s cries only grew more terrified, causing Harley’s heart to hammer wildly in her chest. The very minute a door appeared in the padded room, she bolted towards it._

_Hands wrapping around the latch, she desperately tried to pry it open. But it wouldn’t budge. It was locked._

_“Ugh—c’mon—c’mon you piece of shit, open!” she screamed, balancing one foot on the door, as she kept tugging at the latch. “Open damnit!”_

_A figure suddenly appeared outside of the door’s window, shadow casted on the wall. Harley banged at the door, trying to get its attention, screaming for it to let her out, but as it stopped beside the window, she was met with a pair of cold, blue eyes, that only stared back at her. Silencing, she felt her throat closing, as she stared eye to eye with the Clown Prince of Crime himself._

_“Puddin’…”_

_He just kept staring at her, looking her up and down. A slow but steady grin spread over his face, and to Harley’s horror, he began laughing. Laughing loudly, as he backed away from the door. She began to bang at the door again, screaming even louder until she was sure her vocal chords had snapped in half._

_“Mister J! Please! Let me out!” she begged, hot tears pooling in her eyes. “Let me out, please! I wanna come back! Let me come back!”_

_More laughing, the grin transitioning into a horrid, mean one._

_“Oh, Harls. Silly, silly little Harls.” His voice sounded chilled, dark. “You can’t come back. You can never come back.”_

_“But I want to! Please puddin’, I’m begging you!” She gagged at the snot that was leaking from her nostrils, on the salty tears that had streamed into her mouth. “Just let me come home, I’ll do anything!”_

_The Joker stopped backing away. The grin disappeared, and he cocked his head at her, a cruel expression marking his features, which were even more illuminated by the darkness he was shrouded in._

_“Anything…?”_

_“Anything!”_

_Following this, her ears were filled with the sound of the baby’s crying. And it was coming from inside the room this time.  Head turning, she gasped lightly upon spotting the same white crib, shoved into the corner of the padded room. As quickly as she could possibly go, Harley ran to the crib, skidding to a stop on her bloody feet as her eyes were met with not an empty crib this time, but a small, pale baby inside. She was dressed in a frilly purple dress, the only splash of color in the entire room. Soft golden curls, which were barely visible, adorned the baby’s head, her little face scrunched tight, and flushed, eyes moist with tears._

_A strange flutter…perhaps maternal instinct, overtook Harley, and she dropped her arms into the crib, instinctively scooping the crying infant into her arms to soothe it. She was a tiny baby, possibly no older than a newborn, it almost felt like holding a baby doll. Harley cradled her close, shushing her despite the baby’s loud cries almost being deafening._

_“Shh, shh sweetie, Momma’s got you. It’s okay…” she crooned. Turning on her heel, she loudly gasped upon seeing Joker now in the room, but the door was still closed, no signs that it had ever been opened. His face looked almost…frozen, in a menacing, cruel expression. Harley’s efforts to quell the child hadn’t seemed to work, the cries seeming to grow even louder. She held her even closer, Joker taking a step towards her, spreading his arms out._

_“It’s all simple, darling…I’m only asking one thing of you. One teensy, eensy little thing…” He pinched his fingers together as if to make his point, his finger then moving to point towards the crying infant in Harley’s arms. “Just get rid of that thing, and you can home. Easy as…hm…”_

_He stopped, grinning._

_“Well, I would say pie, but I think you get the point.”_

_Harley felt her arms go weak, struggling to keep the now-screaming baby in her arms. She started backing up, until she all but backed into the wall, smacking into it with an “oof”.  Looking back at J, she could see he was waiting. Arms still outstretched, grin still on his face._

_“N-no—no…no. No!” The grin vanished, replaced by a snarl. “She’s not a thing! She’s your daughter! Our daughter, puddin’! She’s a part of you, I can’t kill that!”_

_His arms fell to his side, eyes filling with something that could only be described as disappointment._

_“Oh…Harley…” He clucked his tongue, with a tiny shake of his head. “Harley…baby, pumpkin pie…”_

_A chuckle emitted, and he began to walk away, the chuckle becoming a laugh the further he walked away. Harley watched him, petrified, her eyes widening at the sight of the door being opened. Yelling, she made a dash for it, with the screaming baby still wriggling in her arms. But J slammed it shut before she could get out, looking back in at her menacingly before disappearing in a puff of smoke. She screamed, smacking the door, kicking at it. Another high-pitched shriek from the baby split her hearing and suddenly, it became very dark in the padded cell._

_Dark, quiet, cold…_

_What sounded like swooshing, followed by a heavy thud, sent fear catapulting into Harley’s heart. She pressed the baby against her shoulder, looking around the room like a startled cat. In the farthest corner, a dark, looming figure emerged, dressed in the very cape and cowl of the man who was responsible for her various imprisonment, why she’d ended up in Waller’s clutches not once, but twice._

_And it was that very man who stood in front of her right now, making her cower into the wall. Her grip on her child tightened, as Bats grew alarmingly closer. He spoke nay a word, only reaching out with his arms in an almost robotic-like manner._

_“No…no, go away, Bats. Go away.” Her head shook, hand covering the head of the now-silent child. “Go away, you can’t have her. You can’t have her, she’s not yours.”_

_He didn’t seem to be listening, now kneeling. His arms grew too close, and Harley shrieked, scooting away._

_“Go away!”_

_Her words didn’t seem to be working. He only reappeared in front of her, this time catching her off guard no long enough to be pulling the baby into his own arms. Harley began shrieking again, struggling to pull her child back._

_“Stop it! Give her back!” she cried, the baby still eerily quiet even as her mother and the Bat struggled in a game of tug of war with her. “She’s mine! She’s my baby! You can’t have her!”_

_She fell back, arms flailing in the air, empty. She pushed herself up, crying out at the sight of her child now securely tucked into Batsy’s arms. Shooting straight up to her feet, Harley ran with the speed that only a mother could possess, diving towards the dark knight in one last attempt to grab her daughter back, yelling as she went._

_Her face was met with nothing but the hard pad of the wall as she slipped onto the trail of blood her feet had left, and she hit the ground again, dazed. Batsy looked over her, as she blinked, but she couldn’t move. Something was pinning her down, but she couldn’t tell what._

_Whatever it was, was preventing her from saving her baby._

_“No…no please, she’s mine…” All willpower gone, Harley could only whimper, Bats turning his back to her. She screamed as with one dark sweep of his cape, he and her baby disappeared, leaving Harley destitute in the dark, dank room. But she didn’t scream this time, or yell._

_She only lay there in the blood, the room growing darker, and darker. Her baby began to cry…once more…but it was so far, so distant. Harley felt more tears slip onto her face, vision going blurry. Hollow laughter in the distance mixed in with the baby’s cries…followed by Harleen’s nagging voice…and Teddy’s moaning…which…was oddly close…_

_That’s when her vision cleared, and she saw the rotted boy staring down at her, jaw slack. Her face contorted, eyes widening, and she let out one last loud scream before the boy reached down at her with his deformed hands._

_The pure white of the room was soon replaced by a dark red hue, no remnants of either person remaining in it._

* * *

 

Harley jolted out of her sleep, screaming loudly. Hands flailed, and she grabbed at the side of her head, body crumpling.  Chest heaving heavily, she shook, throat tight. She moved both hands down to her stomach, inhaling a relieved breath.

_Baby’s still here…she’s okay…_

_It was just another nightmare…just a bad dream…_

Dreams were dreams, they couldn’t hurt you. Not physically anyways, but that didn’t change how much her head was pounding. Her chest heaving heavily, she forced herself to lay back down, hands remaining glued, protectively, on her midsection. The minute she lay down however, a sharp pain struck the lower half of her body and she yelped, hands flying back onto the blanket. 

_Not again…_

So, her body wasn’t going to give her any time to recover from her nightmare, huh? She’d have thought this shit would have subsided by this point, this wasn’t even the first time this whole evening one of those cramps had hit her. Earlier that evening, following supper, she’d began to experience minor pains in the lower half of her body. She’d thought nothing of it; the food had been crap, again, as always, and she’d only thought her body was having have a hard time digesting it.

With nothing else to do in her tiny cell, and not willing to be tortured by the voices for endless hours on end, she’d settled beneath the scratchy covers and had attempted to drift off into a blissful slumber. It T Dwas the only thing her body craved, and the only way she could escape from the voices unless they decided to take a one-way train trip into her dreams.

_They had, of course. With some other unwanted faces._

That was something to reflect on later, as she once again struck with another similar pain, that re-entered her like a vicious tidal wave.

This time, it was far less subtle than the earlier ones.

It felt like cramps, but at the pace they were coming and going, she knew it couldn’t be from any indigestion. She didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but even as she had sat up in bed now, halfway arched over on the mattress, there was a fearful idea in her head that this was something concerning the baby.

Her mind had gone back to the uterine rupture, that maybe her stitches had popped, but there was no sign of any blood on the sheets yet. And the cramps didn’t feel as intense as those, but they were still just a tad painful. Painful enough to be a bother, but not crippling. Not crippling yet, anyways. They could get to that level if what she thought was happening, was happening…

Her breath hitched, visible in the cold room as she released it. Her fingers clutched the bed covers as she remained bent over, wincing at another cramp. Arms shaking, she dared to move one hand back to her stomach, as if clutching it would make the cramping stop. It could still be indigestion, or a bladder cramp. There was no telling if this was really happening now…

She couldn’t be in labor.

Not now. Not yet.

It wasn’t the right time.

“Please…please, baby…” she whimpered, pleading with the unborn child inside of her, hands clutching the sheets and her stomach, even tighter than before. That was not really proving to help either.  “You’re scarin’ Momma, please…you can’t come yet…you can’t…”

Her voice transitioned into a whimper, as another cramp hit her, full force this time, and she keeled over, softly moaning into the mattress. _No, no, no—this was not happening. It couldn’t be happening. She was still a few weeks away from her due date—it wasn’t supposed to be happening now._

_Oh, it’s happening, Harley. I hope you’re ready to lose your next child._

Wearily lifting her head upwards, she saw Harleen standing off in the corner, a smirk on her face. The mutilated Teddy was standing next to her, his jaw dropped open whilst an eerie moan echoed out of his rotted mouth.

“I’m _not_ losing her…” Harley growled under her breath, panting in between words. More cramping. She cried out, head hitting the mattress again. Fuck, these cramps were just going to keep getting worse, weren’t they? If this really was what the earlier stages of labor was like, she was not looking forward to the later ones.

 _You’re going to lose her, Harley. Just like you lost me._ It was Teddy who spoke this time, though he just seemed to be groaning out every single word. _Though, I suppose you got rid of me, didn’t you? Too bad you won’t get to keep the baby you actually wanted, so sad._

“Fuck _off_!”  Her nails scratched at the blankets, the sheets, as the current cramp subsided, allowing her to exhale. “Fuck off, you little piece of _shit!”_

_He’s right, Harley. You’re going to fail again. Just you wait and see._

“ _Fuck off!_ Both of you! Just fuck off!” Harley screamed, sitting up, both hands wrapping themselves around her face. “Get out of my fucking head! I’m not losing her! I’m not! I can’t!”

Though her voice was muffled, she kept screaming, repeating the same words. Trying to convince herself that what she was saying was true, that she wasn’t going to lose her daughter. That’d she get to hold her, that’d she get to hear her say her first word, put her hair in pigtails, dress her up for school…but she knew she was lying to herself.

It was too late, far, _far_ too late to formulate any kind of plan.

Her baby was as good as taken.

Her hands shot away from her face the minute she heard the door clicking open. Another cramp subsiding, Harley ducked back down, pulling the covers over her chest. She snapped her eyes shut, feigning sleep as several pairs of footsteps entered her room. Whoever it was, could leave just as fast. She wasn’t about to drop any hints that she might be in labor, that was just what they wanted.

“She’s asleep, you sure we should be doing this…?” Her eyes fidgeted beneath her eyelids at hearing the voice, the words it was saying. It sounded like the same orderly who dropped off her food and meds, what was he doing here? To give her her nightly meds, no doubt, she didn’t know what time it was, but she was pretty sure she’d slept past the allotted time the medication was usually handed out at.

_But wait, wouldn’t he have roused her for that?_

“Ms. Waller said that she wanted this done tonight. We have no other choice.” Another voice spoke, one she didn’t really recognize but guessed it was probably a security guard due to the gruffness of his tone. All the guards sounded same to her, even when she was an employee here. She’d liked to think it was a qualification to work at Arkham; you had to sound tough and look tough. It made for silly thoughts, and she almost giggled, would have, if she wasn’t pretending to be asleep.

A sigh sounded, most likely from the orderly, and she felt her bedcovers being drawn back, and several hands grabbing at her legs and arms.

_Wait, what was going on?_

_What were they doing?_

That was when she felt herself being pulled off the bed, and peeked one eye open to find herself being laid on a stiff blue mattress…and only the stretchers in this place had stiff blue mattresses.

Both eyes flew open, now surveying the three orderlies and the one security guard, who seemed to be securing her to the stretcher. Her arms and legs now pinned down by straps, she felt her body began to shake. She choked out a startled gasp, alerting the attention of one of the orderlies.

“Aw, fuck. She’s awake.” He was saying, Harley’s eyes scooting around the four individuals in confusion. _What’s happening—what’s happ—what’s going on—_

“That changes nothing. Let’s just get her down to the medical bay, Dr. Samson should be ready for her by the time we get there.” The guard was saying, finishing with the final straps at Harley’s ankles. “Be prepared to sedate her, just in case.”

_Doctor!? No! No, what were they doing?_

She wanted to ask, wanted to know, but couldn’t find her voice, only frightened, shaky breaths, coming in and out. Hyperventilating, shaking, head-spinning—she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—just kept hyperventilating while the stretcher was pushed down the hallway to the elevator. It was starting to settle in; the pieces coming together.

_Doctor…be prepared to sedate her…medical bay…and she was strapped down…._

_Oh no._

Shit, they couldn’t know she was in labor, could they? Was the security guy actually paying attention to the cameras this time? Had he alerted them?

_Shit, shit, shit—no, no—oh god, this was happening now. She was going to lose her baby. She was going to lose her—_

_What did I tell you, Harley?_

“Shut UP!” Harley’s sudden scream tore out of her hyperventilating, badly scaring two of the orderlies pushing her.  The guard only motioned for them to keep going, so they went further, further to the elevator…going inside…doors shutting.

_What did I tell you, you know what I told you? You know exactly what I told you._

“No! Shut up! Shut up!” She began wriggling, jerking her arms up despite the binds, her legs squirming. At the rate Harleen was going, she was going to get her sedated; she’d had enough of being sedated, what if she woke up to find her stomach flat with stitches in it, and that little rice bomb being re-inserted into her neck. Her baby would be gone—she’d be gone—gone—

No, she wasn’t going to accept that; that’s not what was going to happen, it couldn’t.

But what could she do? Continue screaming? Continue thrashing?

That’s exactly what she did, but was coldly ignored by the staff members who were escorting her. They didn’t seem to be keen on sedating her as the guard had instructed them to do, despite her struggling still continuing as the elevator let off a ding, signaling they’d reached their destination. The stretcher was rolled down a left hallway, through a pair of wide doors. Harley’s screaming silenced only momentarily, as she spotted Joan Leland standing outside the doors.

She didn’t say anything to her, her face grim and sullen, only watching as her former colleague was escorted from her view.

* * *

 

Outside of Arkham Asylum, the heavy rain from earlier was still not proving to let up that easy, mercilessly pounding the entire isle of land the hospital was located on. It provided an even more ominous picture, painting the place out to be like a haunted, gothic asylum from some scary movie. Which, considering all the death that had happened here…wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.

Ernie, the one lone guard out on duty, sat out in the security booth, perusing the newspaper in his hands as he bit off a piece of a glazed donut. A cup of cooling coffee sat next to him, alongside a framed picture of a young, blonde-haired woman, which was signed in cursive with the words “To Dad, my hero. Love, Paige.”

Paige, his daughter, was who he would’ve preferred to be spending the evening with. She was home from college for spring break and the two had planned on going to see a movie after he was done with work. Unfortunately, the storm was keeping him in locked him for the night, and as the hours ticked away, it was beginning to look like they’d have to postpone that movie night.

Sometimes, he wondered why he’d ever became a security guard.

A car beeping alerted him into looking up from his newspaper, and he glanced over to see a black Chevrolet pulling up beside the booth. Sighing, Ernie sat his paper and donut down, opening the window to peer out, flicking on his flashlight as the window of the driver’s side to the car slid down, revealing a beautiful red-headed woman inside. She flashed a bright smile at him as he shone the light towards her, moving her hands off the steering wheel.

“Hi.” Was all she said, still smiling over at the rotund man. He blinked at her, confused.

“Can…I help you, ma’am?” he asked, trying to figure out how anyone sane would be out in this weather, let alone on Arkham Island.

“Well, I hope you can. I’m here to visit someone.” she responded, smile shrinking into a smaller, more pleasant one. Ernie felt a small pang of pity, knowing very well that visiting hours had ended hours ago, and that this woman must’ve driven for several hours to make it out here.

“I’m very sorry, miss, but visiting hours are over.” He said, and moved to shutting the window to the booth.  “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh…I hardly think that will be necessary.” The sudden change in the woman’s voice caused Ernie to look back at her, and he realized the smile had left her face. The poor man unfortunately did not get a chance to react, as Ivy had taken her hands off the steering wheel and retrieved a toxin from the box in the seat next to her, smirking before she chucked it into the security booth’s window.

“Sorry Ernie, no hard feelings.” She half-heartedly apologized, green fumes consuming every visible inch of the tiny building. Ernie started gasping, grabbing at his throat as he dropped to the ground. One hand swatted aimlessly, trying desperately to fan the toxins out, but only succeeded in swatting over his daughter’s picture. Ivy watched from the car, until the fumes faded, and leaned over to see poor Ernie’s body slumped against the wall, drained of any color. His veins were visible, a sickly dark shade of green.

The Joker appeared beside her, looking bemused at the sight of the man’s corpse.

“Not bad.” he remarked. “But you forgot one little thing, though.”

Before Ivy could ask what, he pulled out his gun from within his coat, and fired off several rounds of bullets into the security camera attached to a near corner above some screens.  He pulled his gun back in, scoffing at the look Ivy was giving him.

“What?”

Ivy only rolled her eyes, and got out of the car, reaching into the booth to press a big button. The gates in front of her began to creek open and she looked back at the vehicles waiting behind her, veiled in the darkness. Curling two fingers into her mouth, she whistled, the vehicles now moving forward. She slipped back into her own car, beginning to drive through the gates, and the Joker settled back into the backseat, reloading his gun. He glanced upwards as the car paced itself up the path to the hospital, which slowly came into view, looming ahead of them almost as dark as the Bat himself.

_Click._

He lowered the gun, setting it in his lap.

_Oh yes. Tonight, was going to be a fun night._


	21. Chapter 21

Light suddenly changed from dim to bright white, Harley squinting at the white hall she suddenly found herself in. No paintings or doctor portraits lined the walls, no plants on the floor. It looked very plain, and…very foreboding, at the same time.

_So, this was the doomed medical bay._

It was much different than she remembered it being; so much bigger, and much colder too. It reminded her of one of those hospitals she’d seen in a horror movie a long time ago, almost feeling like an entirely different building, appearing slightly more modern than the rest of the hospital’s yellowing wallpaper, marble floors and all-out gothic appearance. Varying people dressed in scrubs and white coats passed her, shooting her only looks of disdain, other patients being wheeled away from what she no doubted were their daily electroshock sessions.

_Well, that or they just got a lobotomy…. Christ, this place was terribly old-fashioned, even with the modern upgrades. How was any of this crap still legal?_

She felt her mouth shudder open, spying another wide doorway. She was pushed into it, another cramp filling her midsection, just reminding her of what was unfortunately, and probably, going on. Her ears were soon being filled with the sounds of several whirring machines and eyes being met with a very uncomfortable looking bed, no blankets covering it, only a very thin, white paper. Straps were on the armrests, and nearby it sat a small machine, like the one that Dr. Hoffman had used at prior ultra sounds.

Jaw remaining open, she continued looking around in fright, startled as a balding, round-faced man with a thick beard and equally as thick glasses, appeared in her line of sight, smiling at her. Though, it was not a warm smile. It looked about as fake as any smile she’d seen from past clients.

“Well, well, you must be Harley.” he said, attempting to sound warm and kindly. But Harley wasn’t fooled; she knew how this worked, these guys always tried to make you sound comfortable before they cut you open. Or fried your brain, basically whatever they felt like doing. And…judging by the sharp tools that were laid out on the tray, she was willing to bet it was the former.

“The one and only.” The guard responded, as Harley just kept staring dumbfoundedly at the doctor in front of her. “Where do you want her, Dr. Sampson?”

“Oh, um, on the bed over there would be fine.” The doctor walked over, pointing towards the uncomfortable bed while the orderlies followed with the stretcher. Confusion wore off and Harley began struggling again, shaking her head the closer she got to the bed, panic coursing through her. “No” was the only word she could muster, repeating it over and over again, at first as a mumble, but her voice gradually grew louder as the orderlies undid her straps. Once free, purely out of instinct, she attempted to bolt, screaming out, but was pulled back amidst shouts and panics from the other people in the room. The orderlies and guard pinned her down on the bed, while two nurses ran up and forcefully inserted her wrists and ankles into the straps.

“No! Let me go you bastards! I’ll fucking rip your throats out if you don’t!” she yelled, Dr. Sampson once again coming into her vision. His hands, which were shockingly cold, grabbed onto her face and turned her towards him.  Oh no, he was trying to get their eyes to meet. She knew this tactic too—they always did it before they made you suffer, like getting you to calm down was going to help with the inevitable torture coming your way.

_Well, Mister J had done it before…but she liked the way he did it. Suffering might be involved then too, pleasure maybe…maybe both…_

 “Hey, hey Harley, listen to me. Listen to me.” She shook her head violently, but his hands remained, forcing her to look forward. “Listen to me, you need to calm down. It’s not going to help your baby any if you’re acting like this, you want to help your baby, don’t you?”

_Baby…baby…._

More cramps rippled through Harley, and she stopped moving. Her breathing slowed, head stopped shaking. The doctor smiled encouragingly and stroked her face, like she was the aggressive dog he’d just managed to pacify with a treat.

“Good…that’s a good girl. Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths…”

The nurses finished strapping Harley onto the bed, the one in front of her had seemed to take extra care in making sure her bonds were tight. Harley’s eyes strayed from the doctor just long enough to look at the other nurse, who had a surprisingly uneasy expression on her face.

She looked back to the doctor, somewhat calm, and somewhat placid. He smiled, and pulled his hands back from her, standing up.

“Alright, I think we’re good here.” he said to the orderlies and guard who were still standing nearby.

“Are you sure, Dr. Sampson?”

“Oh, I’m quite sure. Besides, I’m certain you all have other duties to be tending to.” Dr. Sampson turned from them, pushing his glasses back up his nose, as they had slid down during his moment with Harley, who was oddly quiet over on the bed.

_Quiet maybe...but calm was a definite no._

At the foot of the bed, she briefly saw Harleen looking back at her, giving her a very “I told you so” look as her only taunt before vanishing.

* * *

 

Joan Leland stormed down the dark hallways of Arkham, feet pressing hard against the floor and echoing. She stopped at the end of one such hallway, scanning the small waiting area in front of her. She spotted the individual she was looking for on the opposite side, engaged in a conversation with one of the security guards.

This mattered little to Joan though, not after what she’d just seen. She moved forward, brushing past any other co-workers and patients, approaching Amanda Waller as the guard she’d been talking to departed into another room. She stopped, her arms remaining at her sides, and fists balled.

“Waller.”

Waller turned to look at her, appearing not at all interested or alarmed that Dr. Leland was speaking to her. She briefly looked the other woman over, before moving to stuff a file back into the black bag she was carrying.

“Dr. Leland. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, voice about as low and sullen as ever.

“I think you know what.” Leland snapped, crossing her arms. Her hands were still very much curled into fists, though. “Tell me why I just saw Harley Quinn being escorted into the medical bay. She wasn’t due for another several weeks.”

“And? I don’t have time to wait another several weeks.” Quick to the chase, Waller closed her bag and retrieved a coat that had been hanging lopsidedly on a chair. She turned once more, meeting Dr. Leland’s angry expression with an alarmingly calm one. “I’m overseeing a new program at Belle Reve and I’d prefer to be present, if that doesn’t bother you, doctor.”

“That’s not what’s bothering me.” Leland persisted as Waller began walking away. “What’s bothering me is how damn insistent you are on having Harley back. She’s a sick woman, Waller, she needs to stay here, not play soldier.”

“Doctor, I gave you plenty of leeway already.” Waller stopped at the exit, grabbing the door handle. “I’ve already arranged for you to come see her at the prison, what more do you need? What more do you want?”

Rain echoed into the empty corridor, Waller cracking the door open, only to be stopped by Joan, who grabbed ahold of the small handle. 

“What I want is my colleague to get her life back. And she can’t do that in your little hellhole.” she stated, attempting to sound as firm as possible. But that wasn’t exactly possible when the person you were trying to sound firm with was firm enough on their own.  “At least, if I were overseeing things, I’d make sure she’d get to have a few minutes with her baby. I doubt you’re even going to give her that.”

To this, Waller gave no response. Only a very scrutinizing glare, followed by a tiny “hm”, and she resumed in opening the door. More rain filled the corridor as Waller stepped out, throwing her coat on.

“I was just telling one of your guards; I want Quinn transported to the Gotham City Airport as soon as the child is born. Make sure he remembers.” she said, apparently not seeming to hear Leland’s disgusted gasp. She looked back, once more.

“Goodnight, Dr. Leland.”

And almost like a phantom, she disappeared into the misty night, the only sign she’d ever left was the sound of the car whirring away outside.  Joan could only watch in defeat, the wind blowing the door shut with a bang and sending several strands of frizzy hair loose from the small ponytail it was tied back in. She sighed, pushing it back into place as she turned, beginning a slow walk back down the corridor.

Inside, she felt completely horrible. Harley’s session from earlier that day still had her shook up. Even she couldn’t say what was going on inside that woman’s head, but there was one thing for damn sure; whatever she’d seen that Leland couldn’t, had been enough to send her into hysterics. And with what she’d overheard in her cell a short time afterwards...how Harley’s temperament had changed, overhearing her crooning to her unborn daughter and telling her bedtime stories...okay, they were bedtimes stories about murder and mayhem, but still. This showed Leland that there was at least some humanity, perhaps a tiny shred of it, left in her old friend.

She only felt bad that she couldn’t do anything to stop what was happening tonight. If Harley showed this much devotion to her child already, there was no telling how much it would destroy her to have the baby taken away. And any chances of rehabilitation would be next to none.

Her thoughts were interrupted at what sounded like something hitting the ground. Blinking in confusion, she looked up from where she thought she’d heard the vent closing, and her vision soon turned to the ground, eyes widening as the small object that had hit the floor slowly rolled over, and a bright, red smile painted across its bumpy green exterior.

_A grenade?_

No, not just a grenade, one of the Joker’s. And it looked like someone had already pulled the ring off.

 “ _Shit._ ” Leland began backing away, stumbling back into a door. “Shit, _shit_!  Everyone run! Now!”  

She was able to shout out a quick warning, the entire waiting room of the hospital soon becoming engulfed in a flurry of panic and fright. Anyone who wasn’t fortunate to get out of the way in the time soon found themselves being sent across the room, as the grenade exploded, taking with it a few staff members and almost the entirety of the upper corridor.

Leland had thankfully gotten out of the way, but that still didn’t change the terror she felt overtaking her heart as an all-too familiar individual with green hair stepped into view, gun in hand and wide grin on his face, as he surveyed the scene of chaos in front of him.

“Wow...what a way to make an entrance, am I right?” he quipped, clicking the gun. He spotted one wounded nurse desperately trying to make it to the one phone, though her arm was bleeding profusely. “Aw...no, I don’t think so.”

He lifted the gun, firing a bullet that settled itself into her head. She fell, dead, right next to Dr. Leland, who covered her mouth, a quiet scream all but breaking through the cracks of her fingers. The Joker began to charge through the room, stepping over another live body, which he also shot.  The grin never left his face and he laughed, sending several more rounds into the security guards running down from the windy staircase planted in the center of the waiting room.

Poison Ivy followed in after him, taking out any other patrons with the very plants they’d mistakenly set up after her departure, also chucking any toxins she had with her into any rooms that survived the blast. One guard was snatched up by a long vine and tossed to the floor, being finished off with gunshots from Panda Man’s machine gun. Several of the other henchmen made a beeline for the stairs themselves, taking down anymore staff who were coming down, the rest remaining on the lower level as Joker and Frost charged to the elevator, which just so happened to be housing one of the orderlies who had escorted Harley to the medical bay.

He didn’t have much time to escape, his shocked face only visible briefly until Joker shot him. Joker then stepped into the now open elevator, alongside Frost. Across the room, he could see Ivy, who was very much preoccupied in choking the life out of several other employees, and whistled to her, catching her attention for only a second.

“Plant, you conduct things down here! I’m going up!” he called, while Frost pressed a button on the elevator’s panel.

Ivy nodded, and quickly resumed in her prior business, the elevator door shutting. Joker moved to reloading his gun, but didn’t put it away just yet. He kept it by his side, tapping his feet as ironic elevator music replaced the gunfire and sounds of death beneath him. How he wished he’d thought of having Sam try to slip a cellphone Harley’s way, anything to give her the reassurance he was coming, or to know how she was doing, to be ready for him. He wasn’t entirely sure how a surprise rescue was going to pan out...it had in the past, sure, but Harley had been the only one waiting on an escape then.

Would she even come back...no, he couldn’t think about that. One wrong thought, one wrong move, and this entire plan would be for naught, and he’d probably be joining her in a cell across the hall. What a two for one victory that’d be for Batsy...hah, too bad that Joker wasn’t willing to let that happen.

The elevator kept moving, up, up...slowly...Joker’s foot tapping increased, and he tightened his fingers around the gun.

_Daddy’s coming Harley, Daddy’s coming baby. You won’t die this time, you won’t._

* * *

Before any of the chaos unbeknownst to her had occurred in the waiting room, Harley had watched the staff workers as they left, doors automatically opening and sliding shut. Her eyes then went back to the nervous nurse beside her, who she could’ve sworn she caught staring. The woman’s eyes quickly averted themselves, instead looking at the floor.

“Okay, first things first. Let’s see how things are progressing with that baby of yours.” The doctor picked up a wand from the machine next to the bed, squirting some gel onto it. The nurse beside her swiftly moved Harley’s shirt back to reveal her bare stomach, but moved away just as fast.   Dr. Sampson flicked the screen on and pressed the wand against Harley’s midsection, causing her to wince. Not because of how cold the gel was, she was all but used to that after nine months of checkups, but because of another cramp. This one had felt much worse than the others, but she kept her mouth clamped shut, not about to let this doctor in on what was possibly going on. He was about to find out himself anyways.

Which, judging by the creases on his face, he had just found out.

“Christ…well, I wish we’d gotten you down here sooner…” he murmured, moving the wand to the other side. “It’s looking like you’ve got some early contractions going on here…at least, from what I can tell. Either that or this kid just really active.”

He chuckled, but stopped at the death glare Harley was giving him. He removed the wand and set it back in its tray, brushing his hands off.

“Erm, excuse me for just…one minute…”

The doctor then left the room, pulling out something from his pocket. One of the nurses broke off a paper towel and started wiping the gel from Harley’s stomach, but she wasn’t paying attention. She could make out a few audible words from the hallway outside of the room, eyes locked onto the doctor through the door’s windows.

“Yeah…Ms. Waller? Yeah, she’s here, I—no, no we haven’t done the procedure yet but—” _Why was he talking to that old bitch?_ “But ma’am, wait, listen. She’s already having contractions, I mean they’re not that close or anything but—what? What I—”

His voice faded, going further away from the room. He must’ve been pacing, given that he had briefly disappeared from her viewpoint, but had seemingly returned the very minute he’d walked off.

“Ms. Waller, I’m sorry but wouldn’t it be wiser to have her wait this out? Her labor seems to be progressing smoothly, I don’t think—huh?” His pacing stopped. “…Yes. Yes, I understand. You _do_ run a tight schedule, I understand. I’ll go ahead as planned, I’m sorry for bothering you.”

The doors pushed open and he returned, setting his phone down on one of the counters nearby.

“What’s going on, doctor?” The other nurse asked, the nervous one still remaining as quiet as ever.  “Are we still going ahead with the procedure?”

“It seems so, Gail.” Dr. Sampson sighed, removing his white coat. “Could you run to the pharmacy room and retrieve a Foley catheter while I go prep? Shauna, you get the patient ready, alright?”

“Right away, sir.” Gail, the more stout-faced nurse, exited the room, while Shauna didn’t look like she was paying attention at all. It took another mention of her name from the doctor for her to jump to attention. She quickly nodded and ran to the counter, opening up a cabinet where there were no doubt tons upon tons of IVs just waiting to be stuck into some poor, unsuspecting patient like Harley.

Soon the doctor had left as well, departing into a smaller room nearby, and Shauna came back over to Harley, avoiding as much eye contact as possible while she prepared the IV. Harley watched her, studying her body language, how much she seemed to be quivering. As a former psychiatrist, she was naturally good at reading people, and the longer she watched this woman prepping her…the more she realized she might have a possible ally here.

Good thing her mouth wasn’t gagged, she had a real chance at shaping this woman into nothing but putty. If they did decide to gag her, the puppy dog eyes were always a good backup. She just had to try every option possible, this was her last shot at saving herself and her baby.

First, she made sure the doctor had completely left, and could not hear her, thanking her lucky stars when she heard a sink faucet running. Inching her head towards the nurse, she looked just in time to witness the IV being inserted into her vein. Hissing, Harley’s eyes crept up to look at Shauna, as that was apparently her name, and studied her a little more. She looked to be about forty, maybe a few years older...her skin was dark, with light beads of sweat dripping down it. Hair braided, pulled up, and she couldn’t help but notice the silver necklace the woman was wearing, a tiny picture of a two boys, one younger and one older, inserted into the frame with evident care.

Oh _yes_ , she was the perfect candidate for mind molding.

The woman stopped halfway through adjusting the other end of the IV to the bag, realizing Harley was looking at her. Clearing her throat, she nervously resumed her business, trying to ignore the clown queen as much as possible. But unluckily for her, Harley wasn’t about to keep up this well-behaved patient act for much longer.

She let out a small grunt. Then, two small grunts, until she was loudly “ahem”-ing, finally gaining the nurse’s attention.

“What do you want?” Whoa, she sounded _terrified,_ and Harley had barely said anything. She lifted her head, shifting at the sensation of another cramp.

“Take a chill pill, lady, I’m tied down.” she grumbled, rubbing her fingers on the metal railing that her arms were strapped down on. “I just wanted to talk, can’t I do that much?”

“No.” Shauna ducked her head, resuming in setting up the IV bag. “No, I—”

“Oh, okay.”  Cramps subsiding, Harley lay her head back onto the bed, uncomfortable as it was. “I’ll just watch you then.”

She continued surveying the woman, who’s eyes shifted back and forth from her to the bag. This seemed to be agitating her, and she finally snapped, stepping away from the IV bag and pole with a flustered huff.

“ _What_ do you want?” she sounded almost like she was begging, which further helped the smirk on Harley’s face to develop. “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything to help you. I’m really sorry, okay?”

“Hey, I never said I wanted you to help me—”

“You were thinking it.” Shauna interrupted, lowering her voice. “You wouldn’t be the first one who’s suggested it, but I already told you; I can’t do anything. I’m sorry about your baby but I just—I can’t, I have to do my job.”

So, she was proving to be a tough nut to crack, okay. Harley always liked a good challenge, but she had to be quick if she wanted to get out of here before the cramping got worse, or when they decided to slit her belly open. She wanted to be long gone before it got that to that.

The woman had her back turned now, slipping a pair of plastic gloves off her hands. She went to throw them away, but froze upon Harley’s next sentence choices. Choices she knew would have this lady eating right out of the palm of her hand.

“...you’re a mother, aren’t you?”

Petrified, Shauna looked around, a look of terrified disbelief on her face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You. You’re a mom, I know it. I saw the picture on your necklace.” Harley lowered her voice too, especially upon realizing the faucet in the other room had stopped running. “You’ve got two babies of your own, how old are they?”

The disbelief Shauna displayed grew deeper, eyebrows lowered, and she began to pad back to Harley, albeit sluggishly.

“...why do you want to know?”

“I don’t. I’m just trying to make a point.”  Harley let her head slump to the side. “Look Shauna, if ya haven’t noticed, I’m about to become a momma. I’m gonna have my own baby, and if I don’t get out of here, I’m never gonna get to raise her like you got to raise yours. Doesn’t that sound just a teensy bit unfair to you?”

“No, because it doesn’t concern me, or either of my kids.”  Shauna insisted, her voice all but a hissing whisper at this point, as she stopped beside Harley’s bed. “Besides, your type doesn’t deserve to have children.”

“Excuse me? My _type?”_ Harley scoffed, shooting her head back up. Okay, this woman was dangerously close to getting on her nerves. One more chance, and that was all she was getting, otherwise Harley would have to resort to spraining her wrist to get it out of it’s confinement. She didn’t want to do that, not when these cramps were already a big enough nuisance already.

“Shauna, please. You’ve gotta hear me out...” Shauna had turned her head, lowering it, but Harley kept talking. “I want to hold my baby, I want to watch her take her first steps, hear her say her first words. I wanna dress her up in cute little outfits! Am I not entitled to that much?”

No response. Time to ham it up.

“Shauna...” She saw the woman’s head lift at the audible change in Harley’s pitch, which sounding extremely sorrowful. It was all a rouse of course, and that was Harley’s intention. But, it was debatable how much of this she was actually faking, considering she really was at her last resort, and was extremely close to breaking down.

She faked a sniffle, causing the woman to slowly turn back towards her again.

“Please...they’re gonna take my baby...”

Glints of sorrow...Harley spotted visible glints of sorrow, and pity, in the nurse’s eyes. She bit her lips to keep from grinning, delighted that her ploy seemed to be working.

“I just want to hold my baby, Shauna...don’t I deserve that? Don’t I deserve that, as a mother?”

She had her right where she wanted her now; Shauna was shaking now, hands clutching together. She chewed at her own lower lip, looked very conflicted, eyes blinking. She was no doubt in a stupor, trying to figure out what to do, if she should continue doing her job, or listen to the pleas of a maniacal clown. Harley held her breath, waiting for the woman’s next course of action. She’d pressed both lips together into a sad pout, eyes glistening lightly. This expression further confused the nurse, only seeming to make her decision more difficult.

_She had to make a choice eventually, she had to._

_There was no more time left._

No, there was definitely no time left.

Unable to hold her breath any longer, Harley released it. But Shauna didn’t look any closer to giving her an answer.

* * *

 

The iron doors to the elevator opened upon it’s arrival to the high-risk floor. The Joker and Johnny Frost stepped out, both with weapons raised. Though the security guard hadn’t seemed to have noticed them, evidenced by his being fast asleep behind the desk. His legs were propped up on the desk and his hat was slumped over his eyes, indicating he’d no doubt been that way for several hours.

“Ahem.”

Grunting, the guard scratched at his neck. He came to, grunting as he pushed his hat back up. His yawn was cut-off halfway at the sight of the Joker now standing in front of him, and the barrel of a gun right between his eyes.

“What did anyone ever tell you about falling asleep on the job, pal?”  He taunted, finger releasing on the trigger as the guard’s face convulsed in shock. The security cameras behind the guard became overtaken with blood and brains, a loud bang completely rattling the half-walls of the desk’s alcove. 

The Joker watched the man’s corpse slump downwards in his seat, then stooped down pulling back the guard’s jacket. He filed through the pockets while Frost sat his own gun on the desk, stooping over to tamper with something on the computer.  When he found what he was looking for, which just so happened to be the guard’s keycard, he stood back and slipped it into his own jacket, standing back up.

 “You still sure you don’t want me coming back there with you, J?” Frost questioned, a loud buzz sounding off from the heavily-locked doors next to them.

“Johnny, I’m not sure about a lot of things half the time.” Joker slipped his gun back into it’s holster, stepping out from the alcove. The buzz silenced, the doors now popping open. “Besides, I already told it’s better that I go get Harley myself, you just keep an eye on the security cameras and warn me if anyone comes up here.”

“Sure boss, whatever you say.”

So, Frost stayed behind, the Joker stepping past the open doors and into the darkened hallway. Many doors lined the sides, filled with the harmonious moans and cries of so many patients; the patients that society had deemed the worst, and given up on. The ones that barely saw the light of day, barely got time outside of their rooms, and were treated as nothing more than animals in a zoo. And in society’s eyes, that’s exactly what J deserved. Maybe once, he’d been on a lower risk floor, but after one scarring incident, had been quickly transferred up here, the warden no doubt throwing the key behind him without a second thought.

That was the first time, followed by so many times after that. By now, he’d lost count. Many times, he’d simply been known as Patient 0801, always had been whenever he came here. It was like this hospital had especially reserved that name and number for him, if anyone else had had it, he had no idea.

Roaming down this long hallway was bringing back memories for him, especially upon passing by his former cell. He stopped, briefly, recalling the nights that Harley had crept up here to visit him on during her tenure as Dr. Quinzel, whether it was sneaking him a soda or snack from the vending machine, or if it had just been the two of them conversing about things. Out of all of his stays here at Arkham...that stay had been one of his favorites. It was something he relished in thinking about, especially its climax.

_“What are you gonna do, are you gonna kill me Mister J?”_

Harley’s words replayed, a scene of her former self strapped down to the table as he stood above her, brandishing two small batons. The way the fear had just dripped off her voice, but with it had come so much curiosity.  She had stared up at him, with such wide eyes, pupils completely shrunk. Yeah, she’d been scared, but...it wasn’t the same type of fear he’d seen on his face during some of their sessions. There was more determination to it, more demand, more curiosity and more wonder.  It had been so much more of a delicious expression to witness, one he savored, one that, just at the thought of now, brought a smile onto his face.

_He would have her back tonight, make no mistake._

Getting his mind set back on the task at hand, Joker looked further down the hall, trying to recollect which number Harley’s room was. Sam had told him before he’d left to go pick Melissa up, but which one was it, exactly...ah, yes. Yes, he remembered.

His pace picked up as he neared her room, stopping right next to the door. Taking out the keycard, he slid it through it’s recognition slot, dismayed to find the door still locked even as he grabbed onto it. He slid the card through several more times, before he gave up and tossed it aside, taking his gun back out, firing a bullet into the lock.

The noise caused several of the other patients to cry out from behind him, but he ignored it. His mind was not on them, nor did he care; if he knew Harley, she’d been awake before he’d even gotten up here, before he’d even shot the guard, and by now was probably sitting up in bed, eyes wide open and breath baited. Just waiting...watching...

The Joker’s hand moved to opening the door, but froze halfway. The haunting thought crept back...the thought that he still had no idea how Harley would react to seeing him. He knew what he’d like to happen; her running up to him, throwing her arms around him while she squealed loudly. Then she’d kiss him like crazy, and he’d have to practically peel her off of him just so they could get out before the cops decided to join the party.

There was about a 10/50 chance of that happening.

The other fifty percent of that chance looked rather bleak.

“Oh...what the hell...” Joker grumbled, shaking his head. He swung the door open after this moment of composing himself, running inside. Normally he would just let himself enjoy the moment, enjoy the look on Harley’s face while he slowly sauntered over to her, but there was no telling how this was going to go over. He had to move quick.

But, even as he neared the bed...he suddenly felt like something was wrong. No, he _knew_ something was wrong; even if he had sprinted in, Harley would’ve seen him by now, would’ve already pounced on him whether it was out of joy or an attempt to strangle him...there was no sign of her doing either. Joker flicked the light on, scanning the small room for any sign of his queen...but there was nothing.

Joker’s shoulders hunched, his face faltering as he stopped next to the bed. He stared at it in silence for a minute, noticing that the bed was entirely empty, sheets and blanket wrinkled. The pillow looked like it’d been tossed to the ground...but none of this told him where Harley had gone. It indicated that she had been there... but where she was now, was a complete mystery.

_They didn’t have sessions this late at night, could they? What other possible explanations were there, where else could she possibly be?_

Well, he definitely didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that she wasn’t here, and that he was once again, too late.

Anger overtook his black heart, and he yelled out, grabbing the weak bed frame with both hands and overturning it. Everything, the mattress, blanket, sheets—fell onto the floor, Joker having now stormed away from it. He didn’t exactly leave the room, but stood there, blood boiled and legs shaking. So much of him felt angry, and—Heaven forbid—worried. What if they’d taken her to prison already? What if what Sam said they had planned had already happened—so many possibilities, but they only made him feel worse.

“I was...so close...” He leaned against his arm, which he’d propped on the wall. “I was so close, looney tune...where are you? Where did they take you, where’d they take our baby?”

His throat swelled up on him, but he refused to cry. The Joker did not cry, he did not show weakness.

He _would_ not cry, he couldn’t.

But the tightness in his throat only got worse, now spreading to his chest, and eyes burning. He shut them, pressing them against him arm as he let out a low groan. Feeling...Christ, he hated feeling. He hated it...so damn much. Burn scars, bullet wounds, hell, even knife wounds...he could handle all those, but the burning pain...that was delivered to him from his own mind?

_He was shocked it hadn’t killed him yet._

He considered himself a man of no weaknesses, but this...this was his weakness. Harley Quinn...she made him weak, and he hated it so much...

_Yet, he still put in the time to find her?_

_To bring her back?_

_Why did he even bother, if this was all it resulted in? Pain, pain and more suffering...someone might as well have stabbed him a hundred times over._

“J!” His head shock back up, relieved to be distracted by Frost’s voice calling out to him. He moved his arm away from the wall, sucking in several deep breaths to relieve the pressure in his throat and trying not to sound too upset.

“Johnny, I uh...” he called back, pausing halfway. “She’s...she’s not in here. She’s gone again.”

“I know, J, that’s why I need to come out here. Right now.”

_Urgency._

There was...urgency in Frost’s voice. He knew something.

It didn’t take long for Joker to bolt out of Harley’s room and back out to the desk alcove, joining Frost at the computers. He didn’t have to ask what was going on, all questions answered as soon as he looked over at the computer’s screen, which was replaying what looked like security footage...

_And Harley was in it!_

Joker’s face lit up, more with alarm than joy, and he leaned in further to get a better look. Oh, wouldn’t you know it, she was strapped down; being escorted by a guard and several other orderlies. And towards a set of doors with a sign above them...marked as “Medical Wing”. The minute they disappeared from view, the footage stopped.

“What!? Why isn’t there more?” Joker demanded, standing back up. “What’s going on now? Why can’t we see it?”

“I tried going farther, boss, but a lot of the medical bay seems blocked off from the cameras.” Frost explained, typing something on the keyboard, which promptly exited them from the footage. “Good news is, the footage seems pretty recent, so there’s a good chance she’s still down there, and that they haven’t operated yet.”

“Then, why the _fuck_ are you still running your mouth, Johnny?”  Joker scoffed, and stole Frost’s gun from its placing on the desk. Frost almost protested, going immediately silent as his boss grabbed ahold of the trigger, giving it a quick check. “Go ahead and talk to yourself if you want, I’m getting down to that medical bay.”

He finished with the gun, then briefly scanned the room, spotting a pistol in the guard’s side-belt holster. Snatching it out, he offered it Frost, who quietly took it. He then all but sprinted back to the elevator. He slammed his fist on the down button and jumped inside, Frost having to grab at the door to keep it from closing as he too, hurried inside.

One lurch downwards later and they were on their way, but not even the elevator music could silence the rage Joker felt. He had not needed anymore images of Harley like that, not when his mind could easily put the pieces together. He’d had his share of that after he’d gotten her out of Belle Reve, the numerous times she’d woken up in pure terror, shrieking over something the guards had done to her. It’d all but boiled his blood when she recounted those days to him, and he’d made it a personal goal to seek out those responsible for laying a hand on her, guaranteeing they had each suffered in the most painful ways possible.

Especially that head guard...what his name--Griggs? Oh yes, he’d gotten _special_ treatment.

The thing was, he’d let those men live. He’d let them live with the physical scars of their punishment, to serve as a reminder for their actions. That itself had been Harley’s idea, she wanted them to be able to look in the mirror and be reminded why they looked that way; and Joker had found that all well and good enough; but _this_ time?

This time, he wasn’t going to give anyone that chance. He’d already shot up half the staff in here already tonight, destroyed a good lower half of the hospital, and scarred half of the inmates and remaining staff members. But that didn’t mean he was any closer to being done. Oh no, he was just getting started.

_His queen.... they thought they could cut his queen open? They thought they could get to wound her again?_

As far he was concerned, he was the only one allowed that pleasure, whether by knife or...more intimate activities. _No one_ was wounding his queen tonight, in fact, _they_ would be the ones cut up the minute he got down there, Amanda Waller and Batman being at the top of his list. It’d certainly be in the best interest of both of them if they stayed as far away from Arkham tonight as possible. Waller was more of a long shot; she’d no doubt made her exit already. Bats on the other hand...if it concerned the Joker, if it concerned Harley...he’d absolutely be showing up.

And when he did...he’d better hope that the Joker had run out of ammo by then.

* * *

 

“Shauna...c’mon...don’t leave me hanging. You’re a momma, you understand where I’m coming from, don’t you? Please, you have to help me.”

Back in the medical bay, Harley was still pleading with Shauna, the now-very conflicted nurse. She couldn’t tell if her efforts were entirely effective yet, what more could she possibly say to convince this woman to help her? She looked like she was seriously contemplating, maybe she just needed one more little push.

“Besides...if you help me, I won’t kill you. Okay? I’ll give you a fair chance to get out!” No reaction from Shauna, Harley feeling her hope dwindling even further down the drain.

_Damnit._

Her lips parted, and she was about to repeat herself, but snapped her jaw shut as the door as the other side of the room slid open.  Dr. Sampson re-entered, now dressed head to toe in scrub attire. He was slipping on a pair of plastic gloves, similar to the ones Shauna had been wearing awhile ago. He stopped halfway, squinting as he glanced briefly around the small room.

“Gail’s not back yet?”

“No, sir.” Wow, the first words Shauna had spoken in five minutes and they weren’t the ones Harley had wanted to hear. “She must’ve got caught up with something.”

“Eh...” The doctor looked at the clock on the wall, sighing. “Well, she’d better hurry up. Ms. Waller explicitly stated she wanted Quinn at the airport by 11:30, hell the guards will be here soon.”

“I’m...sure Gail will be back any minute, doctor.”

“She’d better, else I’d have half a mind to start the procedure without her.” Dr. Sampson finished adjusting the gloves on his hands and proceeded to walk over to bed. That same annoying smile was back on his face, beaming at Harley like he _wasn’t_ about to carve her child out of her.

_How could these sick fucks be so casual about this shit?_

Something told Harley this was probably not the first time this doctor had aided in the theft of someone’s baby. Now that she thought about it, she could recall at least one other pregnant patient she’d seen during her time here as doctor, though to be fair, that woman had been more Dr. Leland’s patient than Harley’s considering how wrapped up she was with her Joker duties.

She did remember, however, during one of those lunchtime sessions they usually had together...how Leland had expressed to Harley how closed up that patient had seemed; she’d barely talked, was barely eating, and all but lashed out when Leland had tried to comfort her. They’d ended up having to hook up that poor woman to feeding tubes just to keep her alive, but they’d ended up finding her hanging from the light fixture in her room several weeks later.

Was Harley doomed to end up the same way after tonight?

She didn’t doubt it. Feeding tubes were already in her future, but she got the feeling they wouldn’t provide her any materials to even try hanging herself in her cell at prison. They wouldn’t let her, anyways. They needed her alive, they didn’t care if she was okay or not. And clearly, none of these doctors seemed to care either. She’d hope she’d at least find help in Shauna, but it didn’t look like her efforts had pulled through.

“So,” She snapped out of her thoughts at the sudden clap from the doctor’s hands. “Are we all prepped over here? How’s the patient?”

“All ready to go, Dr. Sampson.” Shauna had returned the doctor’s smile, but Harley knew it was fake. Maybe her efforts were still having an effect, she could only hope. At least she had her thinking.

“Sorry I took so long!” Another voice chimed in, the doors at the end of the room opening as Gail ran in, carrying with her what Harley could only guess was the catheter the doctor had mentioned. She didn’t even _want_ to think about what that thing was for.

“There’s a bit of a commotion going on a way out of the medical bay, I was just making sure we didn’t need to evacuate.” Gail apologized as she came over, setting the catheter on a metal tray nearby. “It looks like half the guards ran off to take care of it, there was next to no near the pharmacy when I got there.”

“Well, whatever’s going on is no concern of ours.” Dr. Sampson reprimanded her, slipping a face mask over his mouth. “Let’s just get this taken care of before the guards come back.”

He moved to over to the cart behind Shauna, while Gail moved to the right side of the bed. She started working towards undoing one of Harley’s arm straps, while the doctor messed with one of the needles sat on the tray, filling it with some kind of clear liquid that Harley could only figure was anesthetic.

_Oh, she’d half-expected them to just shove another mask over face._

That was one good thing though, at least she’d be conscious. The only chance she had now was if Shauna got her shit together. Which it still didn’t look like she had, Gail had had to prompt her into undoing the other strap. Harley watched Shauna do this, shooting her one, last desperate look. Shauna paused, halfway, eyes meeting Harley’s big, sad ones. Sucking in her breath, the other woman looked over to see Dr. Sampson had approached Gail for help with the dosage in the needle, and looked back to the medical tray.

Harley’s eyes widened at the sight of Shauna slowly reaching over. Was she about to...was she...she was. She was, she was reaching for one of the tools. No, she’d stopped—she looked scared again, glancing again back to Harley, like she needed the reassurance. Harley didn’t nod, nor did she let the faux sadness slip from her eyes.

_She was so close, now...so close..._

Success. Shauna had quickly snatched up something from the tray, too quick for Harley to even get a good luck at what it was. As soon as the doctor and Gail had finished with the needle, Shauna immediately resumed undoing Harley’s strap, at the same time, slipping a small, cold metal object into her hand. Harley wrapped her fingers around it, fingers brushing against it’s curved tip...a scalpel. She’d given her a scalpel, this would do the trick.

“Alright, sit her up.” The doctor was instructing both nurses now, Shauna shooting one last nervous glance Harley’s way before she followed the doctor’s orders, assisting Gail in sitting Harley up on the bed. “Alert someone over the radio if she acts up.”

Both nurses nodded, Harley’s grip on the scalpel tightening even further. She couldn’t fuck this up, she had to do this with precise timing. Who could she take out with this first? Her hands were free, so she had fair pickings here...Shauna was off limits, she’d promised her she wouldn’t hurt her if she helped...which she had, so that left either Gail or Dr. Simpson.

_Decision, decisions..._

“What do you think, baby?” she whispered, as one of the nurses moved her shirt up. Another cramp...that was her only response, huh? It figured. Looked like Harley would have to figure this one out by herself.

She could feel an alcohol-soaked cotton ball swabbing at her spine. They were about to inject the needle—she had to act now. Screw preciseness, screw thinking—it was time to show these assholes how you really cut someone open.

Mentally, she began to count, closing her eyes.

_One...two..._

Screw preciseness, screw thinking—it was time to show these assholes how you really cut someone open. Her eyes opened, thoughts stopping. The lightest tip of the needle pricked at her back, and instead of a cramp this time, she a large, swift kick from her daughter. That was the last signal she needed. 

_Three!_

Shauna released Harley, stumbling back in fear as the blonde let out a startled laugh, swiping the scalpel at the surprised doctor’s fingers. Blood began oozing onto the paper sheet, the needle dropping from his hand, which Harley then picked up and jammed into the man’s retina, causing him to scream out in agonizing pain. He convulsed for a long minute, until he ended up dropping to the ground, his entire face dropping into a sagged, pained expression.

By now, Gail had started panicking, bolting away from the bed and running to where she’d made the mistake of setting her radio earlier.

“Ah-ah-ah, no cheating!” Harley called after her, and with a grunt, tossed the scalpel towards the woman. It dug itself into her shoulder as she cried out, falling straight into the counters before hitting the ground, also smacking her head in the process. A cry from nearby reminded Harley of Shauna’s presence, and she grinned at the cowering woman, who was...actually _not_ cowering, but instead, standing there with her hand pressed to her throat.

“You...were serious when you said you wouldn’t kill me...weren’t you?” she asked, fingers twitching against her chest.

“Absolutely! We owed each other, didn’t we?” Harley snorted, nodding back at Gail. “Hey, on a scale from 1 to 5, what would you give that throw?”

“I... what?”

“Like if you had to rate it, from 1 to 5.” Attempting to lean forward on the hard bed, Harley reached for the straps her ankles had been shoved into. “I’d personally give it like...hmm, a 4.5, nah, I could’ve done a lot better if she wasn’t moving. Hey, come help me out, will ya?”

She waved Shauna over, pointing at the straps that she evidently couldn’t reach for obvious reasons. She did seem like she was having a hard tearing her eyes off the dying bodies of her colleagues, but she came over anyways, although very skittishly, and undid the straps. Once Harley had been freed, she moved to getting up, only to stop halfway because of another cramp. Her feet dangled off the ground, breath coming in out and out in short huffs.

“Are you...alright?” Shauna asked, Harley holding her hand up.

“I’m—I’m fine, gimme a second...” She grimaced, having to grab onto the metal railing to keep from falling. She’d thought for sure the hardest part of her escape plan was done already, but it seemed as if the worst hadn’t come to pass yet. She was still in labor, and her only help was this one nurse. They’d be no match for any security guards who were bound to come across them.

_But we have a chance, we can’t give up now._

She almost snapped, at first mishearing the voice as Harleen’s. But it wasn’t Harleen, nor was it Teddy. It was a tinier voice, almost childlike.

_We have to keep going, Momma. If we don’t leave now, we never will._

“Baby...” Harley breathed, moving her hand against her midsection. “Baby...is that you...”

_We can’t give up..._

The voice faded, leaving as fast as it had showed up. Huh. A temporary voice? It’d been a long time since she’d experienced one of those, but she wished it hadn’t left. Why was she only hearing it just now, or had Harleen and Teddy never shut up long enough for her to listen? She didn’t have time to figure it out now, she was free from these doctors and now had a shot at escaping; she had to take it before this shot was gone.

_The baby wanted her to escape, she had to do what the baby wanted now._

_She was depending on her, she couldn’t let her down. Not again._

During her daze, she hadn’t noticed Gail pushing herself up from the ground, still alive despite the large, gaping wound in her shoulder. The only alert Harley had to her still living was the grunt she let off as she grabbed the radio, and pressed down on the button to speak. Like she was on automatic, Harley grabbed another sharp object from the tray and chucked it at the nurse, this time, landing it in her skull. The confused voice of the guard kept speaking on the other end, as Gail let out a pathetic groan, falling back against the counter, finger releasing from the button.

“Now that was a clear 5.” Harley remarked to herself, chuckling, but was cut off by the sensation of another cramp. She whimpered, and her hand now resembled a claw with how it gripped at her stomach, and Shauna had to grab her by the shoulders to keep her from completely sliding off the bed.

“Shauna...I...yeah, I’m probably gonna need your help aga—agai--” Harley started, only to whimper again. The doors suddenly slammed open, frightening both women as the guard who Gail had been trying to alert ran into the room, fully armed with the pistol custom of Arkham security. He must’ve been just outside the hall if he’d gotten in here that fast, there was no way he’d have gotten in here this fast unless he was the Flash.

“Nobody move!” he shouted. “Shauna, step away from that patient. Right now.”

Harley half-expected Shauna to do as the man had said, but she instead stayed right next to her, still holding her by the shoulders as Harley remained hunched over, continuing to be assaulted by cramps.

“Have a heart, Ralph, can’t you see she’s in pain?” Had Harley’s trickery worked that well? Had she heard right—was this woman _defending_ her? That was a first.

Evidently, Ralph did not seem to have a heart, as he kept the gun aimed Harley’s way.

“I said step away from the patient, do make me shoot both of you.” he warned gruffly, finger squeezing down on the trigger.

“Ralph—”

 _Momma, help. Don’t let the scary man hurt us, Momma._ Baby was back, she was speaking, baby was scared...baby was terrified. Her voice sounded so tiny, and helpless...she kept saying the same thing, slowly fading out once more.

“One more warning, Shauna, that’s all you’re getting.”

_Momma..._

Oh god, this was hurting more than the cramps. Harley wanted to do something, she knew there were plenty of other tools left on that tray—if she moved fast, she could take out the guard’s gun and steal it from him, then Shauna could find a wheelchair for her and—who was she kidding. Who was she even kidding, she could barely move now with how uncomfortable this pain was getting. She felt so useless being sacked against the nurse, like a wet bag of flour. Unable to do anything, unable to even taunt the man threatening her, because she could only muster groans and whimpers, coupled with shaky breathing.

 Ralph was so close now...he was fully ready to shoot that gun. He was going to shoot her—this was it.

_She was going to die here._

She was going to die—her baby was going to die—her chance was gone. It was all gone, she’d failed again. She’d failed—

_You’re going to die here, Harley. You’re failing, and even if you live, you’ll keep on failing._

No—no, not Harleen. Not now—

_Momma, we’re not going to die here, we can’t. Don’t let us die, Momma!_

Everyone began talking at once—Shauna still pleaded with Ralph the more he approached them, Harleen started chattering, Teddy started moaning, and Baby was crying...it was too much. It was too much, Harley couldn’t handle it anymore. She began to wail, abruptly, throwing her head back towards the ceiling. Her chest hurt, her stomach hurt, her brain hurt—she couldn’t take it. She couldn’t stop herself from just wailing, though this didn’t seem to be helping her cause with Ralph any. He only looked like he wanted to shoot her even more now.

_Mister J... help me._

_Oh god, help me._

Her own voice intermingled with the others, saying the words she herself was unable to say through her screaming. She needed her puddin’—she needed him so badly, if only he still cared enough to come find her—at this time of night, he was probably up at the club, or shooting up the city without her, not knowing what kind of peril she was even in.

But she needed him; _Christ_ , did she need him. One of the times she really needed him, and he wasn’t coming.

“Get her under control, Shauna!”

“Put the gun away first!”

Everything was still chaotic around her, Harley’s screaming perhaps the loudest noise of them all. She did fall silent at hearing the trigger click, choking on her breath.

_No..._

“Last chance, you hear me...”

Ralph did not get to finish his sentence, nor did he get to fire his gun. The chaotic noises of the room were soon replaced with rapid gunfire, Harley shrieking as she fell into Shauna’s arms, clutching onto her as the guard soon became riddled with bullets, his entire torso dripping blood—arms, face, all bleeding, all dented. Any bullet that didn’t hit him hit random spots in the room, including the bed. Shauna held onto Harley was both women tried to avoid the barrage of bullets, which stopped the minute Ralph hit the ground.

It grew silent, both Shauna and Harley staring down the dead guard. Soft footsteps clicked into the room, not enough to draw the horrified nurse’s attention, but enough for Harley’s eyes to travel slowly upwards...towards the purple-coated figure that stood before the bullet-ridden doorway. He was tossing holding a large machine gun, which he had just lowered, and his breathing sounded heavy. Soon, his eyes also travelled to Harley, and a familiar, wide grin soon made itself at home against his features.

_The grin...the grin she hadn’t seen in nine months, oh Christ had she missed that grin..._

“Hi, honey...”

Her heartbeat sped up, the individual pausing mid-sentence. He chuckled, the machine gun hitting the floor as he spread his arms out wide as if to present himself.

_“I’m home.”_


	22. Chapter 22

Sometimes, you had times in your life where you couldn’t tell if what you were experiencing was a dream or not. And Harley was sure if she wasn’t currently in pain, she would mistake what was happening right now to be nothing but another dream that her mind had decided to torture her with.

The Joker; her Joker, her Mister J, her puddin’...he was right before her very eyes.

His arms still out, as he seemed to be awaiting her reaction. But she couldn’t quite seem to give it, hard as she tried to. She didn’t know what emotion she was feeling but it felt hot, it burned in her chest the longer she stared at him, eyes wide, pupils huge. Now was not the time for her brain to do a stall on her, with this guard dead and with the possibility that J had no doubt slaughtered half a dozen on his way over here, there was a good chance there was a whole trail of dead bodies leading to the medical way for the remaining security guards to follow.

Leaving would be in both their best interests right now, but even so, that’s not what was pressing at Harley. She was still stunned, still silent, blinking at Joker. Her current cramp had seemed to lighten up for now, so she took this as her chance to move. Slowly, she stumbled off the bed, shrugging off Shauna’s hold on her. Her legs felt weak, but she held onto nothing, continuing towards Joker, eyes firmly locked on him.

Joker’s arms dropped as Harley continued towards him. Neither of them cold describe what they were feeling at this moment; any other reunion had been so different, they’d have been in each other’s arms by this point, they would have been _leaving_ at this point.

_This reunion...felt so much more peculiar._

Harley was silent her entire trek over to her puddin’, his wide grin smiling down on her as she stopped in front of him. She struggled to find any words to say, the burning feeling now prominent in her chest. Her mouth open and shut, several times, jaw shaking. Joker’s grin began fading, feeling his pulse speed up as Harley slowly lifted her hand, pressing it against her face like she had to confirm this wasn’t just another hallucination.

_This didn’t feel real._

“Puddin’...?” So quiet, her voice sounded so quiet she almost didn’t recognize it. He exhaled sharply at the usage of her pet name for him, at the sound of her voice. _It’d been too long, so long..._

“Yeah...yeah, it’s me, Harls. I’m real.”

“I...” She traced her finger over one of the tattoos on his face, shaking her head. “I...I...”

Her hand stopped, lingering over his cheek. She went silent, eyes darting back up to meet his. There it was, that same sense of familiarity, the possessiveness, the longing...all the things she’d seen in his eyes that night on the rooftop, as she stood on the gravel, moving towards him until she’d practically flung herself towards the chopper. It was still in his eyes, even when she was on board, when they’d embraced, when he’d broken her out of prison several weeks later...

She remembered that look...she knew this look so well.

On Joker’s end, the look on Harley’s face was one he really hadn’t seen in a long time. The first time he’d seen it...this look of confusion, confliction...was when he’d pulled her out of the chemical vat. It hadn’t lasted for very long then, and he didn’t like that it was lasting too long now. She had to say _something,_ do anything, that would convince him that his coming here was not a complete waste of time. Something that would reassure him that he hadn’t lost her.

Though, the something he’d imagined was not what he got.

Harley’s hand had moved from his cheek, not before it was back again, this time, with more force. It was enough knock his head to the side momentarily, leaving red streaks on the pasty white of his skin. He reached up, touching it only for a second before he hissed.

“ _Shit..._ fuck..” He turned back to Harley, her shoulders squared, which was coupled with her heavy breathing. “I uh, hope I did something to deserve that...”

She laughed, very bitterly.

“Seriously? Like you don’t know?”

_He did know. That’d been a rather redundant thing for him to say._

 “Okay...” He started to reach out for her, sighing. “Okay, listen, pumpkin—”

He was cut off as she shoved away from him, shrieking loud enough to burst someone’s eardrum.

 “No! No, don’t you dare _pumpkin_ me, you scum-sucking creep!” Her hands started smacking at his chest, pushing him back enough to stumble.  “You left me alone! You left me alone for nine months!”

“Harls—”

“Nine months, Mistah J! Nine _fucking_ months!” She kept screaming, kept hitting him at the farther they both backed up in the room. He didn’t resist any of her hits, somehow, he’d known this might be the kind of reaction he’d get from her. He hadn’t exactly expected her to run into his arms with gleeful joy like before, and even though her hits on him were really starting to hurt, he did nothing except continue with stumbling back, until he’d hit the counter.

“And now, now when I’m danger, when I’m about to have my baby cut out of me!” Both hands shot up, away from his chest and towards his head, grabbing at locks of his hair. “ _Now_ is when you decide to show up?! You fucking creep!”

_Okay, she’d had her fun, this had to end._

Now Joker’s hands shot up, encircling themselves around Harley’s wrists the longer she continued her rant.

“I oughta strangle you, I oughta strangle you right now!" She struggled against his hold as he pinned her arms down, kicking at his feet. “Let go of me! Let go of me you sick fuck—mmph!”

She stopped kicking, stopped struggling, as Joker planted a harsh kiss on her lips. He pulled her against him, tightly, and even though she knew she should keep resisting—keep hitting him, she didn’t. All she did instead was reciprocate the kiss, leaning in closer to him, close as her widened midsection would allow her, as they finally parted, gasping loudly.

“I hate you.” she murmured, huffing. “I hate you so much.”

“I know.” Joker had released Harley’s arms, and they soon found themselves wrapped over his shoulders as he held her, their lips meeting again.

And at that moment, it was like the world around them had just paused, like it had just ceased.

His hands worked their way, down her back, the longer they made out, kisses soon transitioning to her neck as she moaned softly, throwing her head back.  She could feel his hands slipping underneath the fabric of her shirt, yelping at the sensation of his cold hands massaging the skin on her back up and down, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades, burying her face against one shoulder while he continued pressing kisses on her neck.

_Was this really happening?_

_Was this real?_

_Because if it was a hallucination, it was a damn good one._

“God...I missed you, I missed you so much, Harls, I’m so sorry...” He huffed, nipping at her ear. “You’re never leaving me again, you hear?”

Harley didn’t answer him; she let her head rest against him while he resumed covering her in kisses. She was letting herself take it all in, letting her cheek rub against the smooth, scaly texture of his coat, her nose inhale his redolent scent. She turned her head, nuzzling the bare skin peeking out from underneath his coat, and slid one hand underneath it, tracing his muscles, his tattoos.

Anything to reassure herself that this was happening, that he was really holding her.

_Hah, take that, Harleen._

She’d been wrong, Harleen had been wrong. Her puddin’ had come from her and she was going to enjoy this, without the voices interrupting or annoying her for once. There were still warning bells going off, regarding the baby...was he here because he’d finally changed his mind? He had to be, there was no other reason...

_Unless there is._

And just like that, Harleen was back.

**_Shut up, there’s no other reason and that’s that._ **

_Are you sure about that, though? Are you really sure about that?_

Harley felt her arms weaken, keeping them pressed against J as he had now turned his attention to caressing the back of her neck, but she could feel his hands slowing, his breathing slowing. He’d noticed she was quiet, crap.

“Harley...what’s wrong?”

Almost like she was in a daze, she looked up at him.

“Huh?”

He sighed, moving his hands to her shoulders.

“You...you went quiet...” Hands squeezed her shoulders, eyes scrutinizing her. “What are you thinki _ng?_ Hm?”

_Tell him, Harley. Ask him, ask him if he wants the baby or not._

**_No!_ **

_Hmph...coward..._

**_No, I’m not!_ **

_Are too. You’re nothing but cowardly, a cowardly little lion. Huh...Harley the Cowardly Little Lion, sounds befitting, doesn’t it?_

“No, no it doesn’t! Shut up!”

“Harley—”

She cut J off as she crumpled in his arms, knees suddenly feeling like jelly. A wave of blinding pain overtook her entire body, shutting out anything Harleen might’ve been taunting her about. Crying out, her grip on Joker quickly transitioned into a death grip, as an attempt to keep herself from falling to the floor. But the pain didn’t subsite this time, at least, not as fast as it had the other time.

It felt...closer.

The Joker held on to her, alarmed at seeing his queen in this sudden pain. In the rush of the moment of their being reunited, her pregnancy had become a thrown-away thought to him, he hadn’t even thought about the baby in the entirety of their reunion. All that had matter was having her back in his arms.  

“Harls, what’s going on? You okay?” he asked, noting how fast her breathing had become. She had moved one hand to her stomach, grabbing and twisting at the fabric of her shirt restlessly, anxiously, looking much paler than she originally was.

“I...I don’t know—the baby—” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence again, instead yelping at another jolt of pain. “ _Fuck!_ Oh, fuck!”

Her knees completely gave way, thankfully Joker was able to keep her from hitting the tiled floor entirely, sinking down himself as carefully as possible. He turned her over in his arms, sitting her up the best he could.

“Shh, hey, hey—I’ve got you, kiddo, I’ve got you—” She was gasping, face convulsing in pain as he pushed her hair back from it.  “I’ve got you, you stop that. Remember what I told you, pain is just temporary. It’s nothing but an illusory sensation, you can shut it down. Shut it down, Harley, fight it.”

“I’m tryi—I’m trying, puddin’—I’m trying!” Harley panted, sucking in several large, uncomfortable gulps of air. She squeezed her eyes shut, twisting in J’s arms and screaming out again as even more pain sheeting through her...god, her back hurt, and she felt so dizzy, everything felt like it was spinning out of control. She could barely focus on anything, felt as her feet lifted off the ground, but she wasn’t standing. She was being carried, J had her cradled in his arms, as he carried her towards the bed.

“Mis...J...” she mumbled, only to be shushed as he sat her down.

“Hush. Enough of that.” Her head hit the base of the bed, as Joker lowered her against it. Still, she kept mumbling, some words nonsense, some incoherent. One hand stayed put on her stomach, as she shakily inhaled.  She released her breath, shuddering, eyelids fluttering.

The pain was starting to drift off now, but she knew it was going to come back soon. It was getting way too close to be counted as cramps, she knew, in fact she’d read up on it in her pregnancy book, early labor always started out with cramps. What came next? Blinding pain, aka _contractions_?

Christ, she hoped she wasn’t at that part yet, they still had to get out of here.

But they couldn’t do that while she was just laying here; she had to get up, she had to move, which was something she did not feel like doing after what had just hit her.

The Joker stared down at her, watching as her chest rose up and down, as she fought to keep her eyelids from shutting. He was used to seeing Harley in compromising positions in the past, but this was one he’d never dreamed of seeing her in, not in a million years. In pain, yeah maybe, but not pregnant. This was new, and he wasn’t sure if he enjoyed watching her writhe like this. Hell, he never enjoyed watching her writhe, he’d normally go out and destroy whomever had put her in that state; but he couldn’t this time, could he?

_Not when the person responsible for causing her this pain wasn’t even born._

All he could do was grab her hand, as he had noticed her reaching for him. She looked so ill...weak. It was not befitting for some of her status, not fair.

“Mistah J...”

“What is it, Harls?”

“Why...”  She winced, clenching her jaw. “Why did you come? Why now?”

“Ah...baby, I don’t think now is the time to be asking that.” Joker glanced around, making sure no guards had found his trail of bodies yet. He squeezed Harley’s hand, helping her sit up. “Let’s talk once we’re outta here, yeah?”

“N-no, I wanna know now.” Stubbornly, she let go of his hand, grabbing onto the metal rails to keep herself up. “Why? You had nine months to come find me...why wait until now?”

_Oh no, not this question. This was the one question he’d dreaded her asking._

Not because he couldn’t answer it, but because it had such a long, drawn-out response to it. It was something he’d really rather save for the car, as he had just stated, but he got the feeling Harley wasn’t going to budge until he gave her something akin to an answer. It just had to be a short, quick answer—enough to convince her. He’d already blown this once at their last meeting, he couldn’t blow it this time. Because he wouldn’t be leaving her in an alley this time, he’d be leaving her in _Arkham— **fucking** —Asylum_ of all place, and that was the last place he wanted to leave her.

“Harley...” he started, caressing one of the fingers interwoven with his. “I... well, there’s no easy answer to this. Let’s just say...I fucked up. Okay?”

He loosened his grasp on her hand.

“I royally fucked up, I admit it. If I’d let you come back all those months ago, you wouldn’t be here right now...” Pausing, he looked at her, looked at her eyes, trying to find any sign that she was taking in his words. They weren’t drooping now, looking much more alert, so he continued. “But, as it goes...and you know this, I’m a stubborn idiot. I kept denying everything my mind screamed at me, I didn’t want to listen. Didn’t want to admit that...there was some part of me that...”

 “That what?”

“That...maybe...” Her hand slipped from his. “That maybe, I don’t know...that maybe there was a part of me that wanted the baby.”

Harley’s eyes lit up, heart lifting. She was still trying to convince herself this wasn’t a hallucination, that she wasn’t imagining the words he had just spoken to her.

“D-do you?” she wondered, sitting up a little more on the bed.

“I’m uh...yeah, I don’t know, I’m still figuring it out...” Joker shrugged, scratching at the back of his head. He could already see the slight disappointment on her face, the upset. He had to add something to that statement, quickly, before this all went to shit. “But—um, that’s not to say I’m _totally_ against the idea of...a brat of our own...”

She still didn’t look entirely convinced, so he kept going, taking both her hands in his with earnest.

“Look, sweetheart, I promise that’s not all there is to the story. I just don’t have the time to tell you right now—” He looked around again, still no sign of any guards but they’d be along any minute now if his men hadn’t already gotten to them. “Let’s just say you and I get home, get you situated—and I’ll tell you the whole thing then. That sound acceptable to you?”

He was the one holding his breath now, waiting while Harley pondered his proposition. She squinted, tipping her head ever so slightly, head lowering.

_Home..._

That word sounded so nice right about now. She could just envision it...the marble floors, the bear skin rug, the warm rippling fireplace...the huge bathtub in the master bathroom, the bed, and not to mention the basement at the very lowest part of the entire penthouse, where all their weapons, all their tools, and equipment were held. All the things she’d had to go without these past months, and she missed them.

_Mainly for the memories associated with them._

There were lots of memories back in that place, some not so good, some not so bad. Some of those not so good ones included the day he’d kicked her out after finding out she was pregnant...but did it amount to the severity of the other times? Did it really measure up to all the _good_ times? And who was to say there wasn’t a chance for more good memories to happen, say she did come back? There would be a risk for bad ones, sure, but...that was a risk she was more than fine with taking.

“If I come back...can we have grape soda?” she asked, looking up at him, smiling curiously. He stared back at her, disbelief soon being replaced by the same, wide grin he’d had on when he’d entered the room, lifting both her hands in ecstasy.

“Gallons of it, sweetie...” He placed kisses on both her hands, squeezing them gently. “As much as you want.”

“And... you’ll tell me the whole story? All of it?”

“Consider it a promise.”

Her smile was faded a bit, not enough to have completely left her face, however. She looked like she was pondering again, contemplating what decision she could possibly make here. If it was up to her entirely, she’d have said yes by now—but there was one another person she needed to consult first before she gave him her final answer.

Her gaze moved down to her waist.

“What do you think, Baby? Want to go home with Daddy?”

“What are you—you’re talking to it? Seriously?” Joker deadpanned, letting go of her hands. “We don’t have ti—”  

“ _She’s_ not an it!” Harley snapped, glowering at him. “Her opinion is just as important as mine, and if you want me to go with you so badly, you’re gonna wait.”

He went quiet, though threw his arms up in impatience.

“Well, we don’t have all day, Harley! Just tell me if you’re coming or not, it’s not that hard!”

Promptly ignoring him, Harley’s focus went back to her midsection, moving one of her hands to it.

“C’mon, sweetie...do we want to go with Daddy? What’s it gonna be?”

She waited, tapping her fingers as a means to coax a response out of the child. She could sense Joker’s impatience next to her, but even he seemed to be watching to see what her response would be. They both waited, both watching, when a tiny foot outstretched from underneath Harley’s shirt, causing her to yelp, which was shortly replaced by a laugh.

“Hah—I guess that’s a yes then.” she giggled, pulling her hand back. “Okay, puddin’, I’ll come back home with ya. We both will.”

What felt like a hundred-pound weight lifted off the Joker’s chest. He laughed, re-clasping her hand.

“That’s _all_ you had to say, baby.” 

_He didn’t fuck it up this time—thank fuck he hadn’t. This hadn’t been a waste of time, she was coming home with him. Harley was coming back home._

He stepped aside, allowing her to slide her legs off the bed. Her feet dangled over the floor momentarily before she warily placed them down on it, Joker holding onto her as she attempted to stand up. This proved to be bad timing, because she was already yelping again, moving to lean back against the bed.

“ _Shit!_ Hang on, gimme just...one minute...” The same hand stayed on her stomach, that annoying, nagging pain overtaking it. Joker grumbled next to her.

“We _don’t_ have a minute, I still have to get my gun back, you know.”

He expected a snarky response from her, instead getting another groan.  Scrambling to hang onto her, as he could feel her slipping from his hold, he glanced down towards her with a crestfallen frown, shaking his head.

“Christ, Harls. What is _going on_ with you?”

“Sh--She might be having contractions...”

The sudden-extra voice in the room caused him to immediately withdraw his pistol, aiming towards Shauna, who’s presence in the room had gone entirely unnoticed during their whole conversation. This could be accounted to the fact she’d slipped away to hide, and for whatever reason, had just now decided to come back out. Now, she stood in front of the clown couple, hands up as Joker aimed his gun towards her.

“No, wait!” Her cry caused Harley to shoot her head back up from where she’d been laying it, gasping.

“Puddin’, no! Don’t shoot her!’ Joker grunted as Harley grabbed at his arm, trying to make him lower his gun. “She helped me, okay? Don’t shoot! I promised her she wouldn’t get hurt!”

“Nah, see, _you_ promised her. I don’t recall being around to make that promise.” The gun remained in the air, pointed towards the cowering nurse.  “You know I hate loose ends, Harley. What if she snitches on us?”

“She won’t, she didn’t when I killed _them!”_ Harley nudged Joker into briefly looking back at the dead bodies of Dr. Sampson and Gail. “And she won’t do it now either, right Shauna?”

Too petrified to muster up her own defense, Shauna just nodded, hands frozen in place mid-air. Joker glanced at the dead bodies, then back at the nurse. Slowly, he lowered the gun, putting it back in his jacket. Shauna seem to let out a sigh of relief at this, but sucked it back in as Joker shot a warning finger her way.

“I could’ve killed you, remember that.” he snarled. “You’re only getting to live because she—” He pointed to Harley. “—put in a good word for you. Try anything, and mark my words; I’ll make sure you join your pals over there. Understood?”

“O—oh, absolutely, absolutely, Mister Joker...”

“Lovely. Now get out of here, before I change my mind.”

That was all the incentive she needed. Shauna instantly made a beeline for the exit, she wasn’t going to press her luck any longer by staying in here, and she knew well enough from news reports and word of mouth from her co-workers that Joker wasn’t someone you wanted to agitate.  Though on the way, she gave Harley a small smile, as if that her way of saying “good luck”.

Harley smiled back, despite the pain in the lower regions of her body, watching Shauna step out of the room, and then smiled up at J.

“Thank you.” she peeped. He only grumbled at her, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Now can _you_ tell me what’s going on?” he queried, eyes returning to study her. “Is it what she said? Is it contractions?”  

He moved his hand around the room, towards the door where Shauna had left. Harley’s smile disappeared. She opened her mouth, intending to respond, but instead hissed, wincing underneath Joker’s hold.

That was the only answer he’d needed, the only thing that confirmed what he was fearing. _Crap, he thought he could be here before that happened. Before contractions, before labor—that wasn’t enough time for him to make up his mind! It just wasn’t enough!_

What he did know was that they had wasted enough time, and they had to go, now, if they wanted any shot of leaving here free of handcuffs.

“Alright...alright, Harls, here’s what we’re gonna do. You stay close to me, we’re getting out of this shithole.” He inhaled sharply, slipping his arm out from her back and instead wrapping it over her shoulder, taking her other hand in his. “Can you try walking for me?”

She nodded and held onto him, latching her other arm across his shoulder as he guided her towards the room’s exit, stopping halfway to retrieve the machine gun. Despite her stumbling a bit, they managed to make it out of the operating room and out into the blinding white hallway, though it wasn’t quite so blinding no thanks to a long trail of blood and mutilated, shot-up bodies.

“Watch your step.” Joker warned, helping her step over several of the bodies. He held onto the gun with one hand, the other still hanging onto Harley. “Yeah, I uh, might’ve gotten a bit carried away in here. Excuse the mess.”

“Mess?” Harley snickered, looking back at a body that had had its hand shot clean off. “Nah, I think it’s beautiful. I’ve missed seeing your work up close like this.”

“And I missed your admiration, darling.” He chuckled as well, chuckle soon faltering the minute a flurry of loud voices and running footsteps came careening down the left corner of the hallway they were in. “ _Shit,_ get behind me.”

She didn’t have to ask why; she stepped a bit behind him, both hands holding onto his torso as he reloaded the machine gun. Soon, a whole barrage of police officers entered before them, all bearing weapons that were loaded and aimed with the intent of putting the couple down.

 _Ah, the good old boys in blue._ It’d only taken them until half the damage was done to show up; and they wondered why this city had a guy in a batsuit doing all their work for them? 

“Drop it, Joker! You’ve done enough!” One of them shouted, Harley peeking up from behind J, who only sneered at the cop’s demands, raising his weapon in return.

“Oh, have I really now?” He chortled. “What do you think Harley, you think I’ve done enough?”

“Shut it, clown! We _will_ shoot if we have to!”

“Hey, no, you shut it, Shorty!” Harley retorted, scowling at the cop who had spoken. “He wasn’t talkin’ to you!”

She rolled her head, scowl transitioning to a loving smile as she looked towards Joker.

“Make it rain, honey.”

Oh, how he had _missed_ moments like this. He returned her smile, clicking the trigger into place.

“With _pleasure.”_

His fingers began to ease off the trigger, Harley watching in anticipation. Before he even managed to fire off one bullet, another crowd of officers ran in from the other end of the hall, all with their guns out as well, leaving the Joker and Harley sandwiched between them.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot them!” Harley whispered, Joker looking back and forth between both sides.

“There’s—agh, there’s too many, I can’t— they’ll start shooting at us.”

“So, what? That hasn’t stopped you before!”

“Yeah, but you weren’t pregnant back then!” Joker hissed abruptly, causing Harley to go silent. “We’re not the only ones at risk here, Harley!”

_He was—he was actually showing concern about the baby’s well-being?_

_What was this?_

She didn’t know if she could wait until later for him to tell her the entire story, not with that kind of talk.

“I’m going to give you until to the count of three, Joker...” The lead cop warned, stepping closer with his gun raised. “If you don’t cooperate, you’ll both be going into your cell on stretchers. Drop the gun, now.”

Harley gulped, waiting to see what her puddin’ would do. He could figure a way out of this; if he could plan out a whole elaborate scheme just to break her out of prison, out of this hospital, he could get them out of this situation.

“One!”

“Puddin’...”

He didn’t move, wasn’t moving at all. It was like he’d just frozen, right then and there. He hadn’t lowered the gun, but he wasn’t shooting either. In fact, it looked like he was...waiting.

_Waiting for what?_

“Two!”

“Puddin’.... do _something_...” she pleaded, feeling her legs buckling in on her. “He’s about to say three! _Do something!”_

“Last chance, put the gun down.” The cop was getting closer, but Joker showed no signs of resisting. He instead, just smirked back at the other man.

“You might want to look behind you.”

This made the cop stop in his tracks. He looked confused, but resumed his upright position, opening his mouth to sound off the doomed “Three”, but was promptly interrupted by a large vine that shot in from underneath his feet, curling itself around his neck, yanking him around the corner of the hallway, the only indication of his being alive was a loud scream he let out, followed by a crunch, and silence. His men startled, each turned to the corner, their weapons now focused on whatever it was that had taken the other cop, yelling out to each other and firing off their weapons.

This gave Joker the chance to push Harley down and whirl around, firing off several dozen rounds of bullets at the other half of cops, who in-turn fired back at him. Harley crawled behind a lone stretcher that, for whatever reason, some orderly had seen fit to leave in the hall, but given that said-orderly’s dead body was atop it, it was kind of evident.

Grunting, she pushed the stretcher over, the orderly’s wound-infested body getting pummeled with more bullets as it fell off. Joker jumped over the stretcher, joining her as the storm of bullets kept coming their way. Harley wrapped her hands protectively around her womb, her back against the thick material of the stretcher, jumping at the impact of each bullet that hit it, while Joker propped himself back up to fire back, only having to duck down every now and then. On one of these occasions, he flashed an amused grin Harley’s way before firing back at the few remaining cops he hadn’t managed to hit yet.

“Miss this?” he asked her, a loud cry indicating he had managed to be successful in firing at another cop. Harley nodded earnestly, grinning. Joker laughed, and jumped back up, firing off at the last two cops who hadn’t already fled the scene or been killed. One was hit in the leg, and slumped back against the wall, and the other was hit in his chest, soon joining some of his partners on the floor.

Harley peeked out from behind the stretcher to survey the carnage, blood staining the once-pure white hall. What a big improvement over the starkness it had before, maybe they should consider re-painting this place in a hue of red should the blood prove to be too hard to clean up.

Joker offered his hand to her and helped her back up to her feet.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, peachy.” Harley shrugged, as he secured her arm back around his shoulder. “You?”

“Not a scratch.” He chirped, slinging the gun back over his other arm. “Enough meandering though, let’s just get moving before those other guys come back. Speaking of which—where are those other guys? I’d have thought they’d be coming back by now.” 

They began to move down the hall, Harley now realizing how empty it was. Joker had a point, where _had_ those other officers gone?  She’d lost track of them after he’d pushed her down, last she’d seen they’d ran off after whatever had taken their partner away. Had they met the same fate?

This question was soon answered, as Ivy came from around the corner, slipping a pair of green gloves back onto her hands, smirk on her lips.

“Not on my watch, they’re not.”

 “Pammy!” Harley squealed at the sight of her best friend, tearing away from Joker long enough to stumble over to Ivy, who she threw her arms around in an eager embrace. “You’re here too! I’m so happy to see you!”

“Damn right I’m here, too.” Ivy returned the hug, chuckling. “I wasn’t about to let him go and rescue you by himself, he probably would’ve gotten you both killed if I hadn’t come along.”

“ _Hey.”_ Joker snapped, causing Harley to giggle. “Do you not see the carnage behind us? I think I’ve done a _fantastic_ job so far!”

“Oh sure, whatever you say. What about the guy who was about to shoot you?” Ivy pulled away from Harley’s hug, scoffing at J. “That’s definitely doing a fantastic job; I think I deserve a little extra credit here, Joker.”

“Extra credit?”” He chortled, taking time to reload his gun before he sauntered over to the two women. Stopping next to Harley, he roughly jerked her away from Ivy’s hold, causing her to squeak and Ivy to frown at him. “You could’ve taken care of those guys _before_ we got here, that would’ve saved us a whole lotta trouble.”

“...You know, you could’ve just said thank you. That would’ve sufficed.” Ivy crossed her arms, eyes following Joker as he pulled Harley’s arm over his shoulder. He took notice, scowling.

_She was still suspicious of him, that wasn’t surprising._

“You know I’m not a ‘thank you’ kind of guy, besides, right now I’m more concerned with getting out of here.” he stated, adjusting the heavy gun his other arm. “And I’m sure Harley would agree with me on that, wouldn’t you, Harley?”

Harley shifted underneath J’s hold, taking a glance over in Ivy’s direction. Tension in this hallway felt really uncomfortable, always did whenever the Joker and Ivy were in the same room together, tension always doubled if Harley was around. She could sense it as well those two could, if not more. She supposed it was unavoidable, having two people around her who both cared for her in vastly different ways, Ivy’s method wasn’t quite as harsh as J’s, and added to her dislike of him, that didn’t help things any either.  

“Harley?”

“Ohuh? Yeah, yeah. Sure.” She blinked, looking back at Joker with an earnest smile. “I’m just as ready to get out of here as you are, puddin’.”

“See? You don’t want to keep her waiting, do you?” Before Ivy could answer, Joker was already moving forward. “The thank yous can come later, for now, let’s vamoose.”

The couple passed by Ivy who watched them for a split second, then sighed, following behind them. She caught up quick, careful to stay right next to her friend with each step she took.  She could hear Harley’s heavy breathing, and the fact that Joker was helping her walk concerned her. She remembered Sam saying he suspected they.... they being the doctors here, had had plans for Harley...what had they even done to her, if they’d managed to do anything before Joker showed up?”

“Hey.” Harley moved her head towards her friend, slowly.  “I didn’t get to ask, how are you doing? They didn’t touch you, did they?”

Harley shook her head, wincing at the next step she took. A lot of the heavy pain really had seemed to subside for now, but that didn’t change how uncomfortable she felt.

“Didn’t get a chance to. I took care of those suckers before they could even stick a needle in me.” She responded. “Mistah J can tell ya; they were already dead before he even set foot in the room. Weren’t they, pud?”

“Dead as doornails.” Joker agreed with a short laugh, though he seemed to be keeping a cautious eye on the hallway the further they progressed, gun warily raised.

“Somehow that’s not surprising to hear.” Ivy quickened her pace. “What about my goddaughter, still keeping you up at night?”

“Ah...yeah...” Harley nervously chuckled, abruptly hissing at another cramp. “And she’s about to do a whole lot more of that pretty soon.”

“Which is why it’s a good thing we acted tonight,”  J added, as they turned a sharp corner. “I’ll be damned if any offspring of mine takes their first breath in Arkham Asylum, of all places.”

Ivy stopped short, what Joker had just said hitting her.

“You mean—shit, are you in labor?” She quickly caught back up to J and Harley, who had all but reached the end of the corridor without her. “That explains why you were down here then, I thought those fuckers were getting ready to cut you up.”

Harley wanted to say that’s what they were about to do, but her paced breathing was preventing her from doing so. Walking, and trying to manage these cramps, or possible contractions, at the same time was proving to be a pretty difficult task, and she’d managed to do a lot worse when she’d suffered broken bones.

Joker kicked the set of doors opened and the group headed out into the much-dimmer hallway, yellowed wallpaper and all. It was entirely empty, save for a couple of dying bodies on the floor, which were ignored by the trio as they entered.

“Where the hell is Frost?” J wondered out loud, stopping next to a corpse that had been pinned on the wall.

“Don’t know why you’re asking me, I thought he was with you.” Ivy kicked at one of the bodies, ignoring it as it let off a pained moan. “Was he supposed to be out here?”

“ _Yes!_ He was _supposed_ to be keeping an eye on things while I went to get Harley!”

“J!”

_Speak of the devil._

All three individuals turned to see Frost coming up to them, pistol in hand. Harley grinned and eagerly waved to him as he approached.

“Hiya, Frosty!”

“Miss Quinn.” He looked towards her, grunting politely, but he didn’t smile, noticing the annoyed look on Joker’s face. “Nice to see you again. How are you holding up?”

“Eh, I’ve been better.” Harley shrugged best she could, given that one arm was draped around Joker’s shoulder. “Then again, I’ve never had contractions before. It’s weird.”

“Ah...” Clearing his throat, Frost turned back to Joker. He wasn’t about to ask any questions or make small talk, he knew they didn’t have time for that and he was sure he didn’t need any detailed explanation as to what was going on. Besides, his boss would just interrupt him anyways. He already didn’t look too thrilled that the man had left his post, which was a first considering Frost _always_ obeyed orders.

“Yeah, uh...sorry I left, boss.” he apologized, earning a “tch” from J in response.

“You’d better have a good reason for abandoning post like that, Johnny.” He scolded, shaking the gun precariously close enough to Frost to make him step back.  “I would’ve liked a little warning about the GC-fucking-PD showing up.”  

“But J, I was just making sure the vehi—”

“Quiet. Just don’t let it happen again.” J warned, his tone cool.  “Stay put next time, I don’t pay you to go running off with the other children. Now can you tell me if the vehicles are ready to go or not? We’re kind of in a hurry to get out of here, you know.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you, J. The guys are already out back waiting.”

“Good. Tell them to get going, make the boys in blue think they have a head start.” Frost nodded at this and turned to leave, Joker’s attention going swiftly back to Harley as he could hear her breathing go heavy again. He caressed her hand, smiling at her.

“We’re almost out, baby. Don’t worry.” He attempted to sound reassuring, but with how much his mind was racing, it was almost impossible. “You’ll be drinking that grape soda again before you know it.”

“Yeah? I might have to take a rain check on it.” Harley drew in a sharp breath, only briefly smiling before it was replaced by another grimace. Her knees locked, and she found herself dropping onto the bench next to him, halfway out of his grasp. He still held on to her and knelt, attempting to help her back up, as did Ivy, who grabbed onto her other arm. As she stumbled back onto her feet, each member of the group turned to look in dismay the sight and sounds of more GCPD officers coming down the stairs.  

“Oh no, c’mon...” Harley groaned, wanting to do nothing more than to drop back onto the bench with how she was feeling, though that wasn’t a really good option considering the current circumstances. “I thought we already got rid of all those guys!”

“Evidently not...” Joker grumbled, moving to lift his gun, which was promptly shoved down by Ivy. He growled at her as she stepped in front of the couple. “What gives, plant? Get out of the way.”  

“Joker, come on, be real. You’re going to run out of bullets before you even finish with those men.” Ivy said, glancing between them and the approaching cops. “You and Harley need to get out before it goes to hell in here.”

“What do you mean me and him?” Harley grew alarmed, perking up underneath Joker’s hold. “What about you? We can’t leave you in here!”

“Like I can’t handle these guys? Please, Harley, how long have you known me?” Ivy smiled and chuckled, though it sounded uneasy. The footsteps and voices were getting closer, some cops now visible at the foot of the stairs. Ivy glanced back at them, biting down on her lip, then back to her friend, grabbing her hand.

“Look, Harley, you know I care about you, right?”

“What? Yeah but—”

“Then trust me.” Ivy squeezed her hand. “Trust that I can handle myself, don’t worry about me. Just worry about having your kid, and I’ll call you later.”

“Freeze! Nobody move!”

The officers were shouting out now, gaining speed.

“Red—no—” Ivy released Harley’s hand, giving her one last smile before turning away. She slipped her gloves off, tossing them aside as she began to saunter over to the approaching cops.

“No—Red come on, come with us!” Harley continued pleading, shaking her head even as Joker started ushering in the other direction. “Pammy! Please! They’ll lock you up again!”

“Harls! Leave her alone!” Joker snapped, trying his best to guide the protesting Harley towards the other end of the building.

“But Pammy, she—"

She was cut off by several bullets flying their way, Joker pausing to shoot back at the officer who’d been able to slip past Ivy’s assault on the others. Once he’d been taken care of, J went back to helping Harley back down the corridor. They were getting closer to the exit, farther away from Ivy. Harley kept glancing back, trying to get a good viewing of her friend from within the chaos of vines, toxins and gunshots that were going off behind them, but she couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t bring herself to protest anymore; she knew Joker was right, that Ivy was right.

This wasn’t the first time they were in a situation like this and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Besides, Ivy wasn’t her main concern right now, she had absolutely no need to doubt her friend, or worry about her. The only thing she _should_ be worrying about was getting out of Arkham Asylum and off of Arkham Island was fast as possible.

Because like the Joker had said, she’d been _damned_ if her daughter was going to take her first breaths here.

Now at the end of the hall, Joker shot open the emergency exit and he and Harley rushed out, Harley sparing one more glance towards Ivy before the door shut behind her.  


	23. Chapter 23

The rain was letting up as the Joker and Harley made their way out of the backdoors of Arkham Asylum, coming down to nothing but sprinkles. The ground was soft, having transformed into a muddy mush by the raindrops, if one wasn’t careful, one wrong move could send their foot through the ground and land them with a sprained ankle.

But Joker wasn’t about to make any wrong moves, tonight wasn’t about that. The first worst part of this night was over, they were out, but that didn’t mean they were scot-free yet.

There were sure to be more worse parts to come in the following hours.

Harley straggled along next to him as he helped her towards the cars, where their lamborghini was waiting. Her body felt tense pressed next to his, hands holding on with the fierce unwillingness to let go. Cold wind whipped at her face, her hair, causing it to blow every which way. Her teeth chattered, partly from pain, partly from the nippy weather. Light sprinkles of the remaining rain hit her arms, hands, any part of her skin that wasn’t covered by her oversized inmate uniform.

She did have to admit, after two days of being cooped up in a small room and nine months of barely leaving her apartment, it felt nice to finally be stepping outside. And not in any disguise this time, no, she wasn’t exactly back in her prime just yet, but she was starting to feel like herself again. After killing that doctor...then that nurse, it felt good knowing she hadn’t lost her touch in the time she’d had to go without brandishing any weapons.

Though, inwardly, she was still pissed over having to leave Ivy behind. It made her feel like an asshole knowing her best friend was back inside that building, having to fight all those officers off by herself with the risk of being thrown back into a cell.

But, leaving _was_ the main focus at this present moment. And Ivy wouldn’t have told them to go ahead if she didn’t think she could handle it. All Harley could do now was hope her friend would manage to make it out of there in one piece, and make sure her focus remained on fully escaping...and having her baby. Her labor was looming ahead of her, with the promise of even more pain and anguish, and no signs of going easy on her.

She’d tried to tell herself she’d had a lot worse than this, that being tazed and beaten by the guards at prison was far worse than what she was experiencing, than what she was about to experience, but even Harleen wasn’t agreeing with her on that. That’s when she knew things were going to get bad the farther things progressed.

That came later, however. They still needed to get off this isle and out of Gotham.

They neared the cars, alerting a lot of the others away from their attention to Frost, who had been passing on Joker’s words to them. Some of them were waiting by the black Chevy that Ivy had driven up in, the rest in the back of an equally-as-dark van. All were mostly out of costume, save for Panda Man and Goat Man who still had their masks on.  Harley felt a sense of familiarity upon stopping near them, moving hand from where it had been secured against Joker’s shoulder to waving at the group.

“Heya guys.” she chirped, getting a few waves and nods back as responses. There wasn’t much time for more conversation, as Joker had signaled for the guys to get going, causing them to each scatter into their respective vehicles. He opened the door to the lambo and let Harley sit inside, throwing the machine gun into the backseat, while the roaring of each car’s engine filled the night air. The black Chevy took off, pulling around in front of the hospital, and Frost started up the van, not before the Joker came over and placed his hand on the window as it was being rolled up.

“Make sure you give those guys the chase of their life.” he instructed. “We’ll meet you at the gathering point, no stopping for anything else.”

“Got it, J. Seeya in a bit.” Frost nodded, and Joker released the window, allowing it to slide shut. He turned to go back to the lambo as the van rolled off, sounds of sirens already audible and floating away from the building. Excellent, the scums had taken the bait. With both vehicles, they’d be far too occupied to even bother to check if either were a possible decoy. It’d be a longshot to say things were going off without a hitch, but at least things looked in their favor as of right now.

Harley was sitting halfway inside the lamborghini as he approached it, the side door wide open and her hand twisted around the inner door handle. The other hand was splayed on the cushion, fingers flexing as she inhaled. Her head had been lowered, but looked up as Joker stooped in front of her.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, giving her a concerning once-over. She shifted backwards a bit, pulling her feet into the car, and shrugged.

“A little better...I really could go for that soda right now, though...” she mumbled, scuffing her toes against the car’s carpeting. “Can we stop for one on the way?”

Joker chuckled, grabbing onto the car door.

“Sorry baby, but no. We make any extra stops, and those dogs will spot us from a mile away.” he apologized, cackling at the sound of Harley’s defeated groan from inside the car. He looked in on her as he began to shut the door, and she looked towards him, causing him to roll his eyes at the visible pout on her face.

“Don’t even try that. It’s not working.” he mildly scolded, letting the door fall shut as he let it go. “I’m serious, Harley, we’re already pushing our luck enough as it is.”

Another groan was heard from inside and the window rolled down, Harley popping her head out.

 “Oh, you’re _serious_? Hey, yeah, okay, I’m serious too!” she snapped, rolling the window down. “Hospital food is _crap,_ puddin’, I could really use that soda!  C’mon, don’t you have any in the trunk?”

“You think I just carry that shit with me everywhere?” Joker grunted, pushing her head back into the car. _Fuck, was he kind of glad he’d missed most of her pregnancy_ , _he could only imagine the types of mad cravings she’d had. They were probably more extreme and more demanding to procure than a grape soda._ “For God’s sake, Harls, this isn’t a grape soda van, it’s a lamborghini. Now sit back and shut up.”

Another groan was heard from inside and Harley let her head fall back against the headrest, folding her arms in a huff. Joker started to make his way over to the passenger’s side and was all but prepared to open the door, when the approach of another vehicle made him stop halfway, the lights shining directly onto the car, illuminating its deep purple color. Harley lifted her head, pout vanishing as the lights began to fade, revealing the car of the caped crusader himself, parked right in front of theirs.  The door popped open, and he stepped out, a threatening figure shrouded in darkness.

Harley felt her mouth go dry, remembering the nightmare she’d had.

_He’d plucked her baby right out of her hands, leaving her to rot in a cell, screaming and crying._

Her arms moved from her chest, down to her womb, which she covered to her best extent.

_No, she wasn’t allowing that. Not after they’d just escaped from that horrid place, she wasn’t going back just to have her baby removed from her like it was a tumor._

Joker’s mouth was set in a hard line as he surveyed the other man, who had barely moved from beside his vehicle. He wasn’t shocked, he’d fully accounted for him to be showing up, the man had a knack for finding trouble. He was like a bloodhound for these things, and the Joker and Harley were the foxes he was tracking.

“Ah...Batsy, right on time...”

“Joker.” Finally, he moved, treading the muddy ground towards them.  “So, those vehicles were decoys. I should’ve suspected you’d pull a trick like that.”

“Oh Bats, I’m flattered. You know me so well.” Joker mock-laughed and let go of the door, peering in at Harley long enough to mouth a “stay put” to her before letting the door fall shut. Harley was about to protest, but the door was shut, and he was already moving away. She chewed at her lips as J and Bats loomed towards one another, feeling the baby stir at the same time. That hadn’t been a cramp, somehow, it was like she, too, knew what was going on.

_She really did feed off her mother’s feelings far too well._

Damn it, she didn’t want to wait in here. Harley Quinn never sat by on the sidelines.

Without thinking, she found herself opening the glovebox department, recalling vaguely how J usually stashed spare knives in it, which, luckily for her, proved to still be true. She pulled out the largest knife possible, one with diamonds lining it’s handle and one of her personal favorites, and opened the car door, pushing herself out just in time to catch up with Joker’s exchange with Batsy. She didn’t dare near them, staying put behind the door, which she held onto with both hands.

“No no, see, that’s not happening.” Joker was saying, giving off a mirthless laugh to whatever Bats had been saying prior. “It just so happens that ah, we just got out of there, so if you think we’re willingly going back then you might as well be committed alongside us.”

An impatient grunt came from the dark knight, both gloved fists clenched at his side.

“Won’t you listen to me?  I’m giving you a chance here!” he insisted, despite knowing all too well that it was pointless.  “You can come in willingly, and I’ll make sure they—”

“Batsssss, Bats, Bats...” He cut him off, Harley continuing to watch anxiously. “I hate to interrupt here, but I think we’ve had this discussion at least fifty times already. Dontcha think it’s getting a bit old?”

“Not nearly old enough.” Batman retorted, taking a step back. From what Harley could see, and from what Joker could see, he looked to be reaching back for something. A weapon, possibly, what else? “Enough people have died tonight, Joker. Don’t make me do anything I’ll regret.”

Unable to contain herself much longer, Harley stepped out from the car door, angered by the vague threat thrown towards J. She lifted the knife, it’s tip in the Bat’s direction.

“You touch him for even a second, and you’re gettin’ your wings clipped!” she threatened loudly, stumbling towards the two men. Without meaning to, she’d let her features slip into a maniacal grin, the knife practically shaking in her grasp.  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it hurts _real_ good...”

 “Harley...” The knife turned in Joker’s direction, shaking even more as Harley noticed the disappointed expression on his face. _He’d wanted to her to wait, he’d wanted to her obey him...she hadn’t obeyed him...but Bats had been threatening him..._

Her eyes wide, she turned the knife back to Bats, who had cautiously held his hands up, having taken several steps back.

“I’ll cut him, pud! Don’t think I won’t!” she raved. “He’s the reason I was in there in the first place, he was gonna let them take my baby from me!”

“I wasn’t—” Bats started, attempting to take a step towards her, but stopped short as she shoved the knife even closer towards him, Joker having to grab onto her to keep from lunging.

“Oh, _fuck_ you, Bats! She’s _my_ baby! You got that? _Mine!”_ Harley struggled, swiping the knife furiously, though kept missing no thanks to the small distance between her and the Bat. “You and Waller—none of you! None of you can have her!”

“Harley, enough of that! Shut up!”  The knife fell from her hand, hitting the mud. Joker shoved her onto the car hood roughly, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You... _are not_ helping our cause any!”

“But Bats—he’s—”

“I’m _handling_ it, Harls.”

He turned from her, grin instantly coming back as he faced Bats.

“Sorry about that...women, am I right?”

Harley grumbled from behind him, her anger only quelling due to another cramp that had decided now would be a grand time to bother her. Her arms re-wrapped around her stomach once more, head lowering as the wind continued whipping at her face.

Batman hadn’t seemed too amused by Joker’s quip, especially given that he was removing the cuffs from his belt.

“Enough stalling, Joker, it’s time to go.” he said, gaining a chuckle from J in return.

“Oh yeah, it’s time to go alright. Look, Bats...” Cautiously, he began to reach for his gun. “It’s not that I hate our little chats, but we’re kinda pressed for time right now. Let’s just say you let us go and we’ll pick this up another night, yeah?”

No words from the Bat, he seemed just as intent on throwing those cuffs on both individuals as he was when he first took them out. The gunshot from Joker’s pistol caused Harley’s head to shoot back up, just in time to witness Bats dodging the bullet J had fired. He then ran up, knocking the gun out of Joker’s hand. Joker went to retrieve it but found himself being kicked over, having to grab the car’s hood to keep from falling face first into the mud.

Before he could push himself back up, Batman had already seized him by both arms, roughly yanking them behind his back, with one foot keeping him pinned down.

“Ow—ow, fuck. Take it easy, Bats, you wouldn’t harm an expectant father, would you?” Joker joked, only receiving the clicking of the cuffs as his response. Harley gasped next to him and slid off the car, fully ready to throw her fists at Batman, but stopped halfway at, yes, another cramp. Fantastic, that timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Bats had them in his clutches and they’d be back behind bars before this night was over, and all because she wasn’t able to perform.

_Or could she..._

Her sudden loud cry was enough to alert the others, distracting Bats from securing the cuffs. He glanced over to see Harley sinking to the ground, arms around her stomach as she started whimpering pathetically. Joker tensed as Batman moved away from him, heart thudding against his chest as he caught sight of the dark knight moving towards his queen, who was crumpled against one of the car tires.

“Don’t touch her!” he yelled, promptly being ignored by the other man, who didn’t even spare him a look. “Don’t you _fucking_ touch her! Harley, get up! Get up, damnit!” 

“I ca-I can’t, pud. I can’t move.” She sobbed, causing Joker to make several failed attempts at sitting up from the car hood, which wasn’t an easy task considering his hands were currently bound. Once he finally did succeed, he could already see Bats kneeling towards Harley, and his eyes went back to where his gun was. If only...damnit, if only these handcuffs weren’t in the way...it wouldn’t hurt to make some attempt would it? The cuffs were still loose, he could try wiggling out of them. Worse came to worse, he’d end up with a sprained wrist, but he could take that over what he dreaded happening.

While he did that, Harley kept on sobbing, arms wrapping even tighter. Batman was by her side now, reaching out.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” She almost laughed at the tone of his voice, how concerning and low it sounded. “I won’t hurt you or your baby, you have my word.”

_What an empathetic piece of shit._

He really thought that kind of fancy talk would win her over? Maybe with other people, but not her. She’d learned a long time ago to never take anyone’s word for it, no matter how much they pleaded. On top of that, he wasn’t even seeing through her act, heck _, s_ he thought she’d been gullible once upon a time.

_And he hadn’t even noticed that the diamond hilt knife was missing from where she’d dropped it, didn’t even notice that it was secured in one of her hands._

Her sobbing lessened, grin creeping slowly back as she looked up at him. She savored the confusion on his face before screeching almost as loudly as a wild hawk, swiping the knife’s blade straight across his jaw, causing him to yell. It hadn’t been enough to draw blood, at least, not too much, but as she went to swipe it again, Bats seized her by her arm, pulling it back, pulling the knife back.

Harley grunted, trying to free herself, trying to shove the knife’s point back at his face, with no success, even when she grabbed with both hands, it was no use. Try as she might, even she wasn’t strong enough to fight Batsy off, especially not in her current condition. Maybe, maybe if she wasn’t in labor she’d have a chance, she wouldn’t have anything distracting her from entirely overturning the knife on him. Her fury was only fueled by flashing imagery from her nightmare; her baby being completely silent as she was pulled out of her mother’s arms, the way Batsy had just let Harley fall to the ground, not even giving her a moment to say goodbye. How he had disappeared, leaving her alone.... she wasn’t going to let that happen.

“You can’t have her, Bats...” she growled, gaining no audible response from him. “She’s mine.”

Unfortunately, her fury wasn’t proving to be enough to aid her. Bats managed to weaken her hold on the knife, causing it to slip from her fingers. In spite of that, he wasn’t able to much else, as Joker crept up behind him and hit him over the head with the butt of his pistol. It wasn’t quite enough to put him down, and he shot up, only to go down again as Harley pushed herself up and struck him in the back with the knife, sending him doubling over.

She watched the Bat crumple, feeling some sort of pleasure at seeing him wilt.

_Try taking my baby now, you fucker..._

“Harls!” Glancing over, she saw Joker already getting into the car. He motioned with his head before slipping inside, Harley following suit. By the time Batman recovered and was getting up, the engine to the lambo had come to life with a deafening roar, Joker practically crushing the gas pedal as it spun around, hands furiously spinning the steering wheel. Like they were in a cartoon, nothing but a trail of smoke was left behind by the large car, it speeding off into the dark followed by an uproarious laughter from the Clown Prince of Crime.

Now very disgruntled and slightly wounded, Batman wasted no time in getting back to the Batmobile, snatching up the radio from its place on the dashboard. 

 “Jim, you there?” He slid inside the vehicle, pulling the door down with him. There was a static on the other end of the radio before the voice of Jim Gordon replied, noises of screeching tires and bullets alongside him.

“Batman, what’s going on? This isn’t really a good time to be—”

“Jim, stop. Stop chasing that vehicle, it’s a decoy.” He grunted, carefully wedging the knife from his back. Once freed, he threw it in the other seat, it’s blade only lightly covered by blood.  “It’s a fake, the Joker had his men go on ahead, so he’d have a chance to get away. I just saw him and Harley Quinn getting away in their own vehicle.”

“Shit, I should’ve known...what do you want us to do?”

“Get your officers to the Arkham Bridge, surround it.” Bruce started the car, overhead lights shining out. “I’m going to follow them, see if I can’t corral them over there.”

“Alright, if you say so. Just be careful.”

“A bit too late for that, Jim, but I could say the same to you.” Bruce put the radio back, groaning at the pain in his back. He sat back against his seat, hands steady on the wheel of the Batmobile. Inhaling sharply, he advanced forward, turning onto the road in front of the hospital.

* * *

 

Joker’s sporadic driving only continued as the lamborghini sped down the road. It hadn’t ceased the minute they’d sped away from the asylum. Forget the fact that it was dark, and the road was slippery, he wanted to put as much as distance behind him and that place as possible before he thought of slowing down. That spat with Bats had been a close call...too close of a call, really. They’d had enough of those tonight, they just had to get off this godforsaken piece of land before anything else happened.

He side-eyed Harley, who sat next to him in silence. She’d been silent since they drove away, not even having joined him laughing at their besting of the Bat. Hadn’t smiled, hadn’t giggled, just sat there like she was stunned, pupils dilated and arms covering her womb. He took notice how her eyes seemed to be locked down on it, could see the great care in them.

It was...strange.

There was a warmth there that she hadn’t possessed before, or if she had, he hadn’t ever noticed. Was that a common look in all mothers? He wouldn’t know, he’d never had his own mother even give him a second glance, from what bits and pieces of his past he could recall. But seeing such a look on Harley was entirely eerie, almost unnatural.

You’d have never have guessed, with such a face, she’d be capable of the horrible things she’d done. It was like looking like an entirely different person. He’d almost be convinced it was another person if he hadn’t just broken her out, and hadn’t just witnessed her knife Batman over the threat of losing their child.

That was the only evidence that suggested it was still his Harley. 

Still...how she’d just screamed at the dark knight...how could she be so willing to protect something that wasn’t physically in front of her? He just couldn’t understand it, for while his brain could comprehend a lot of things, that was not something he could comprehend at all. Protecting physical beings made from flesh, sure he understood that, he would kill anyone who even looked at his queen in a bad way.

But protecting someone who hadn’t yet inhaled their first breath, that was nothing he could understand.

“How...” She looked up, towards him. “How can you protect her? I don’t get it.”

He didn’t have to look at her to know she was looking down again, to know that same look remained in her eyes.

“Because...we made her, Mistah J. She’s a piece of both of us.” She was smiling, he could practically hear the smile on her face. “How could I not protect her? How could I not love her?”

“But _how_?” J took a sharp turn down the road at the sight of bright lights in the rearview mirrors. “That’s what I want to know, Harls, how could you be so willing to kill for someone you’ve never seen in front of you?”

“I...” That’s the question that made her think, what made her shoulders slump. “I dunno, really. I guess it’s just instinct.”

The lights were growing closer now, though he didn’t want to, Joker glanced towards the rearview mirror to see the Batmobile advancing on them.

_Well, that certainly hadn’t taken him long, and right in the middle of their serious conversation, too._

Looked like Joker would have to set his thoughts aside to deal with later, they weren’t out of the woods yet. Why he thought they had been, he didn’t know, but it looked like Bats wasn’t willing to give them a free pass tonight.

Harley had taken quick notice of the vehicle as well, sating her curiosity as to why their car had just sped up a speed ahead of what they were previously going. Her fingers locked together in front of her abdomen, lips pressing together tightly and heart ramming against her rib cage. Yelping, she found herself hitting the side of the car, as Joker spun the car off the paved road.

“What the hell was that?!” she shouted, only to have her head smack into the window at another abrupt car turn. “Shit! Give me a little warning next time!”

“ _Warning?_ Wasn’t my going faster warning enough? _”_ The Joker argued, spinning the steering wheel in a full circle, which spat up a long trail of dirt onto their tracks. When Harley was able to push herself back up, she could see they were on an entirely different path, which led into a thicket of half-dead trees and bushes.

“Where...are we even goin’?”

“To the bridge, we clearly aren’t going to be able to get off the island the other way.” He reminded her, car dipping as it rolled through several potholes, jostling both individuals in the vehicle. “Unless you _want_ to go hang out with Batsy, be my guest.”

That was definitely nothing Harley fancied, she’d just gotten through with that guy. She wisely held onto her seat, leaning back in it as the car continue rumbling through the pot holes, before finally spinning onto smoother ground. Joker grinned upon looking at the rearview mirror, noticing the Batmobile was nowhere in sight.

“Ah, see? Looks like we gave him the slip.” He observed, Harley grumbling next to him. “Hey, now don’t start with me. At least we didn’t end up in the Gotham Harbor this time.”

“Yeah, _this_ time.”  She had her arms crossed above her stomach now, having moved them from where they’d been hanging on for dear life, jutting her chin out. “But what about those guys?”

“Huh?” Joker looked ahead of them, face falling at the sight of the lined-up police cars in front of the bridge as they advanced towards it. The officers were all armed, waiting with guns aimed. Griping, J slammed his foot on the brake, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the brigade awaiting them. He and Harley both stayed rigid in the car, staring out at what stood outside, Jim Gordon stepping up with a megaphone in hand.

“Joker, Harley Quinn!” His voice boomed through, “I’m asking both of you to step out of the car with your hands up, now. No funny games, or we will be forced to shoot.”

“Hm, still as charming as ever...” Joker mumbled, hands falling off the wheel. “Well, c’mon, Harls. Let’s get out.”

“No! Are you nuts?!” Harley grabbed at Joker as he turned to open the car door, fingers latching on like claws. “Didn’t you hear him, puddin’? He said they’d shoot us if we did anything funny! Who’s to say they won’t just shoot at first sight?”

Joker’s face crumpled in thought, and he nodded, releasing the door handle.

“Good point. Okay, you get out first, then.”

Harley blinked at him in disbelief, hold on him loosening.

“Are you serious...oh, fuck you, Mistah J!” She punched him in the shoulder, scowling. “I’m pregnant, dipshit! If you think for a second that I’m going to put my baby at risk—”

“You mean you already haven’t tonight?” Joker grabbed her hand before she could punch him again, pushing it down.  “Besides, that’s my point, you’re _pregnant._ You really think they’re going to open fire on you? Hell, I don’t think even ‘ole Jimbo would stoop that low—"

“Forget it!”

“But you—"

“No, I said forget it! Why can’t we just drive somewhere else?”

“There _is_ no where else, Harls! This is the only other exit off this whole damn island!”

A tap at the window cut into their argument, reminding them of their next addition of problems on their already long list. They both turned to see Jim Gordon and another officer standing there, gun pointed at the glass.

“We uh, hate to interrupt your quarrel, but we really don’t have all night...” Gordon was saying, voice sounding muffled from coming from outside of the car. “Now are one of you getting out or are we going to have to open the locks ourselves?”

Turning back to each other, Joker and Harley exchanged looks. Neither of them really wanted to get out, and by now, backing up wasn’t an option considering they could already hear the Batmobile pulling up behind them. Reluctantly letting go of Harley’s hand, Joker sighed and opened the car door, not even having one foot out before Harley was grabbing at him again, gasping.

“Puddin’—” she started, but he pushed her back. He pressed a finger up against his lips, signaling for her to be quiet. She fell back in her seat, wincing as the door was slammed shut and listening as Joker started talking to the men outside, in the same, whimsical, sarcastic attitude he always addressed the law with. Apparently, the officer with Gordon hadn’t seemed to have taken what he said lightly and had smacked him with the end of his gun, causing him to fall back onto the car, in turn causing Harley to cry out, covering her mouth.

_This was not how it was going to end, not now. Not when they were halfway out, she had to do something._

What could she do, though? It’d only been one against two with Bats, there was a whole police force out there. Ivy wasn’t with them, and the goons were God knows where. She was in no shape to do battle with these officers, but she’d already had to watch her puddin’ be beat up once tonight. She’d already had to deal with being roadblocked once tonight, had to deal with being delayed, shot at, and threatened.  Her daughter was going to make her grand entrance soon enough, and Harley was not about to let it happen like this.

_What could she do...what could she do..._

_Wait._

_The machine gun_.

 Joker had tossed it into the backseat, hadn’t he?

It wasn’t an easy feat trying to reach into the backseat, especially when she could hear the struggle outside as J kept resisting the officer’s attempts at cuffing him. An even louder smack rattled the car, signifying that Gordon had stepped in to assist. She could even hear Batman saying something as he approached, but she couldn’t care less what that overgrown rodent had to say. 

_Stupid Bats, always messing things up..._

She was pulling the large gun into her hold now, and just in time too; she could hear Gordon ordering another officer to go the other side of the car. No doubt to try and force Harley out, but he got no such chance. As he reached for the door handle to open it, the officer instead ended up having to duck out of the way due to a bullet that broke through the glass, narrowly missing his head.

“What in the—” No one else had much time to react, as Harley shot up from the sunroof, bullets raining from the machine gun in a full circle. This gave Joker time enough to break free and he took the gun the cop had been pinning him down with, shooting the woman point blank in the face. Placing the gun’s handle between his grills, he climbed atop the car and slipped into the sunroof, soon joining Harley in unleashing his fury at the mass of cars, and officers.

It was practically a hailstorm of bullets, and no fool in that whole area would be dumb enough to attempt stepping out in the middle of it; even Bats had backed off and disappeared behind one of the cop cars with Gordon. Officers hit the ground, wounded or dead, the cars becoming thoroughly dented with bullet holes. The whole scene was absolutely deafening; Harley screaming out with the ferocity of a determined, yet angry lioness, as her barrage went on, her and Joker showing no signs of stopping. It was clear neither of them were willing to stop until they ran out of bullets.

“You _sick creeps!_ You sons of bitches!” Glass shattered at one of the bullets hitting a cop car’s rearview mirror. “There’s a princess on board here, _leave us alone_!”

Joker stopped firing long enough to steal a glance at his queen, unable to stop himself from smiling at the insane amount of ferocity in her look. This was the Harley he knew and loved so well, oh how he had missed her, _and by God_ had he missed times like this.

“I know I don’t say this a lot, Harls, but I fucking love you!” he shouted over the gunfire, firing off several rounds at a brave couple of cops who had dared to run out from their hiding spots.

“Aw thanks! You could say it a lot more often, though!” Harley all but grunted the words out, managing to completely shatter every single window of the car one officer had dove into. She laughed, turning to shoot another daring-to-run-up-to-the-lambo officer. That officer soon dropped, and at last, the storm stopped, though both clowns kept their weapons raised and pointed at anyone who dared step out.

“Who’s next? C’mon, I’ve got a couple of more rounds left in me!” Harley jeered, grinning out at her opposers. She could see one reaching for their gun and gasped, squeezing her finger down on the trigger of her own. “Ooh, looks like we’ve got a volunteer!”

_Click._

She fired, the officer even ducking to avoid being hit. But there was nothing. No bullet, even as she pressed down several more times. Panicked, Harley struggled to reload in vain, finding she was completely out of ammo. Joker took notice, and moved to fire at Harley’s target, only to find that he too was short on ammo. After a good minute of struggling, they both exchanged looks, and then, looked back to see the remaining officers gathering in front of them.

The guns hit the ground, hands going up in the air.

Cautiously, and taking their own guns back out, the officers crept towards the Lamborghini. Harley could feel another cramp, as if what was going wasn’t bad enough, this cramp felt...far too rough. At this point, they were starting to feel like contractions, not full-on ones...but...

Oh no.

_This was bad, this was very, very bad._

She waned, whimpering and dropping halfway back into the car, would have fallen in entirely, had Joker not grabbed onto her. He held her next to him, hoisting her back up the best he could. Her eyelids were drooping, breathing going ragged. Her back hurt, tailbone aching, bladder aching. Everything ached, and the extrusion from shooting the machine gun had not helped her out. It only furthered the extreme exhaust now overtaking her body.

Joker could feel her slipping and tightened his hold, both arms now encircling around her entire body, shielding her from whatever these officers were about to unleash on them.  None of them looked like they were willing to back off, even at the sight of a woman who was clearly in pain. Gordon and Batman were out from their hiding places, coming to join the crowd at the lambo.

“Pu...puddin’...Baby...” Her voice had gone quiet, and he glanced down at her. “Baby...tired...I... I wanna sleep...”

“But it’s not sleepytime, pumpkin...no, it’s not bedtime, you have to stay awake.”  He scolded her, the clicks of guns not even a bother to him. He lightly slapped at both her cheeks, trying to rouse her, but to no avail. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her head, lids dropping shut.

“No... no... Baby...we need to rest...” Was the last thing she said, before blacking out. Joker’s breath hitched, fingers digging into her arms. He shook her, shaking his head.

“Hey, no—damnit! Harls! Wake up!”

More guns clicked. The distant noise of screeching tires, however, stopped any chances the cops had opening fire on the clown couple. The decoy car, followed by the van drove by Johnny Frost, came screeching straight into the battered cop cars, sending many flying out of the way, some even igniting in tiny flames.

Once more the entrance to the Arkham Bridge became a war zone, Joker’s men jumping out of the sloppily parked vehicles and throwing themselves at the cops who dared threaten their employers. Frost exited from the van, brandishing the revolver stolen off the dead guard from inside the hospital. He caught sight of Batman attempting to climb atop Joker’s car, Joker not even paying halfway attention due to having a slumped Harley in his arms, trying to stir her.

 “Mister J!”

Frost’s voice alerted him, allowing him to catch sight of Bats and dropped into the car, Harley going down with him. The sunroof shut before Batman could do anything else, and several rounds of gunfire from Frost coupled with the sudden take off of the Lamborghini, caused him to take a nasty tumble off of it, hitting the ground roughly. But when he finally got back up, there was no sign of Joker’s vibrant vehicle anywhere.

Just a madhouse of bullets, blood, and many of Joker’s henchmen now surrounding the area.

* * *

 

Harley stirred, struggling to open her eyes. Her eyelids felt like someone had sewn them shut, heavy and gross. Blinking, she lifted her head from the headrest, rubbing at one eye. She could hear the soft rumbling of the car’s engine, which caused her to observe her surroundings. A radio, leather, windshield...the rolling of the wheels against the road....

_Still here...still with puddin’...none of that had been a dream._

That had been a concern of hers as soon as she realized she was waking up. She’d been halfway convinced when she woke up, she’d find herself back in her room at Arkham, in the dark with a flat belly and stitches lining the “Lucky You” tattoo.

But she wasn’t; she was here, and she was safe. Baby was safe. They were going to be okay.

Her eyes turned their way to Joker, still blinking sleepily. He seemed fully concentrated on his driving, though she was certain he must’ve glanced her way once or twice over the hours she’d been unconscious. They weren’t going as fast or as sporadically as earlier, which was a good sign that they’d managed to get away from Bats and the creeps. 

Her seat creaked as she shifted on it, turning her body towards the window. There were no trees, no buildings; the grass looked dead and damp, and any building they did pass was crumbling.  This was definitely not familiar; if it they’d been here before, she had no recollection of ever being anywhere so empty and lifeless. It looked all but abandoned, and she didn’t recognize any of it.

More creaking from her seat gained a reaction from Joker, who only glanced at her for a second before returning his focus to his driving.

“You’re awake...” She turned from the window. “Feeling any better?”

“If better means feeling you just got hit by a freight train...” Shrugging, Harley ‘s arms rested themselves over her stomach. “Nah...I mean, I ain’t as exhausted but...”

Her eyes widened upon noticing the time on the clock, which read 4:03 AM.

“Holy moley, how long was I out for?”

“Hm...” He hummed, turning the wheel. “A good four hours, I guess. You were mumbling so much I had half a mind to turn the radio on.”

“I was?”

Her mouth went dry, knowing very well what things she was capable of uttering in her sleep. It was never anything good for the most part, most of her slumber-mumbles mainly consisted of arguments with the voices, which had woken up Mister J more than once back at home. She only knew it’d woken him up because she’d be literally shaken out of her sleep as he shouted unintelligible words at her.

“Yeah...it was a real interesting mumble session, too...” The car turned onto a gravel road, ascending a curvy path. “Not as lively as your others, per se... but interesting...”

Uh-oh. The heavy tone of his voice was implying he hadn’t liked what she’d heard. Harley squirmed, head lowering.

“Puddin’...”

“Hmm...yes, a real interesting conversation...” He hadn’t heard her, not a surprise considering that her voice had practically been a whisper. “I heard Harleen’s name being shouted....five, maybe six times...but there was something else...another name, I... I can’t say I recognized it.”

He looked at her, eyes dark and inquisitive.

“Who’s Teddy?”

At the brief mention of the dead boy’s name, Harley could already hear his distressing moans plaguing her ears, resisting the overwhelming urge to plug them shut. An eyebrow twitched, pupils darting about the car as she turned away from J, jaw shuddering.

“Um...nobody...”

“Harley...” That was his warning voice, the one he used when he knew you weren’t telling the truth. There was no backing out of this, was there? She really didn’t want him to know about Teddy, she’d hoped she’d get to put that behind her now that she wasn’t by herself anymore. Unfortunately, she knew he’d keep pressing her until she spilt the beans. It’d just have to be like ripping off a band-aid, better to get it done and over with now instead of delaying it further.

“He’s...” The moaning echoed, causing Harley’s other eyebrow to twitch, her head knocking to the side. “Uh...I uh, started seeing...hearing.... him after I moved into my apartment...”

Joker mumbled something, the car further advancing up the windy path.

“So, he’s new then...” A jolt as they rumbled over something, probably a big rock. “Mind informing me where he came from?”

“Dunno. He just showed up all of a sudden and wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Another jolt threw Harley forward in her seat, the car coming to a swift stop. Joker grabbed her by the back of her hair, gathering in handfuls of it as he pulled her head up, and towards him. The baleful, dark look had grown bigger in his eyes, his mouth looking like it would break into a snarl at any second.

“Strike twooo....” he sang, yanking hard enough on her hair to pull a few strands out as he released it, causing her to shriek. “Let’s try that again; where did ah...this _Teddy_ come from? What does he say to you?”

Harley whined and rubbed the back of her head, certain she’d felt at least one bald spot. Fuck, sometimes, she _hated_ how good she and Joker were at reading each other, knowing when one of them lied. It really hurt, and not just metaphorically.

_Why, why did you give him that lame-ass answer, Harley, our ass was better off staying back in Arkham than being treated like this._

_Shut up, Harleen._

“Strike two huh? Okay, um...” _Cramps, cramps—contractions-- fucking cramps, go away._ “He...he’s a little kid from some uh, old memory. I don’t know which one, I barely remember it—but, uh, he’s always showing up, starts taunting me about the baby...”

The Joker continued listening, watching her intently from his seat with both eyes locked.

“He keeps telling me I’m going to lose her, that I’m going to fail.” She fidgeted, struggling to ignore the fading noises of Teddy’s moans. “I guess that’s why I’ve been so protective...”

_You’re not telling him the whole story, Harley._

She didn’t need to, he seemed to have accepted this answer. He was nodding, moving the car forward.

“Well, you can just ignore him, pumpkin. You won’t be losing this baby, not on my watch...” he mumbled, pulling the lever back from where it resided next to the “park” label. _Amazing...amazing he hadn’t even grown angry once at the mention of the baby, how he wasn’t referring to it as a “thing” anymore._

_Was his brain finally numbing down to acceptance?_

_Had he really reached that point?_

Fuck it if he knew, he was just angry another voice had managed to slip into his Harley’s mind during their separation. She was just beginning to manage Harleen, he was so proud of her for it. There was no telling how much this “Teddy” had tormented her, he could only imagine the other awful things he must’ve screamed at her. Whatever they were, she wasn’t acting like she wanted to tell him what they were.

Her deploring moan could be part of why she didn’t want to talk about it, as it went, they both had a lot they needed to catch up on. There was time enough for that later, they’d managed to escape and there was still much that needed to be done. There was a new clown to be delivered, and judging by the noises Harley was making, it wasn’t going to be much longer until that delivery was to come full circle.

She was halfway hunched over in her seat now, eyes squeezed shut. She opened them at feeling a tap on her back and looked to see Joker jabbing a finger towards the center console. Confused, she opened it to find a can of grape soda inside, pulling out the beverage to find that was it was, eerily enough, still cold.

“Grabbed it from a gas station while you were still out...” She jerked her head in his direction, his fingers tapping on the wheel before gripping down to make another turn on the path. “I know I said no stops but...yeah, the place was practically empty by the time I got inside, there wasn’t even anybody at the cash register.”

He glanced, seeing she was still staring at him.

“No, there’s no caffeine in it.”

She grinned, popping the can open as he looked away, grumbling something inaudible. Bubbles fizzed out as she eagerly sipped at the beverage, dropping back in her seat. Her free hand rested beside her and she looked out the window, taking another large sip from the can. She could now notice how far from the actual road they’d gone. It was almost like they were up a hill, just where was this path leading?

“Hey, where are we at anyways?” she wondered. “Tell me we’re off Arkham Island, at least, cuz I don’t recognize any of this.”

“Of _course_ , we’ve been off that place since you passed out.”  Joker said, Harley stopping mid-sip of her soda, sitting up in her seat as a large building soon came into her viewpoint. It wasn’t large-large, but it was big, wide, crumbling like the other buildings. Closer they got, and a very vague memory replayed in her mind, of a time where she remembered driving up to this very building, in a black van with some special guests tied up in the back...

“The Palace!”  She breathed out loud. Yes, the Palace. An abandoned hotel off in the crumblier parts of Gotham, the part without skyscrapers and traffic lights. It was rumored to be one of the first buildings that came up when the city was founded, but was promptly abandoned during some disease epidemic. A perfect hideout for criminals, especially the Joker. It was one of his personal favorites, amongst all the other buildings they’d camped out at, and one they frequented whenever things got too hairy back in the city.

She didn’t even know why she’d thought they’d be going back to the penthouse, that’d be the first place Batman and the GCPD would be looking for them.

For the last time, the car came to a stop, resting beside a wilting oak tree. It wasn’t quite as dark outside as early, that didn’t change how dim it was, the headlights being the only beacon of light in the whole desolate area before turning off. The Joker shut off the engine and got out, pacing around to Harley’s side, where she was finishing up her drink. She crumpled the can in her hand and shoved it back in the center console, as he opened the door next to her.

Offering his hand, he helped her out, the ground almost sinking underneath her weight. No shock; it was still pretty muddy, that rainstorm must’ve stretched pretty far. She held onto him with one hand, the other pressing her abdomen as she smiled down at it, giggling.

“We’re here, Baby. We made it.” Her giggling stopped at another uncomfortable sensation, causing her to grimace.

“You two can talk later, let’s get inside.” Joker urged her to start moving, shutting the car door. He wrapped his arm back around her and the two began shuffling towards the worn building. Approaching vehicle noises made them stop long enough to glance back, seeing Frost pulling up in the now-bullet ridden van. He jumped out, heading over to the two of them, alongside a handful of the other men.

“Johnny, glad to see you could make it.” chirped Joker, turning his head up. “I can’t uh, help but notice...we’re short a few troopers, here...wasn’t the deal for us all to meet up here?”

“We tried, J.” Frost came up, stopping next to the lambo. “Some of the guys, ah...the cops got ahold of ‘em before we could make a break for it. I didn’t wanna stick around any longer after that, the rest of us were just lucky enough to get away with the van intact.”

“Huh, okay...we can focus on getting them back later--”

“Mister J...” Harley cut into their conversation, fingers curling around J’s. She hadn’t meant to interrupt, especially knowing how much J hated to be interrupted. His groan was evidence enough of that. “Can we...ugh, can we just get inside now? I’ve gotta sit down...”

Sighing, Joker readjusted his hold on her and took his keys out, dropping them in Frost’s hand.

“Go hide this hunk of metal, and the van. I’ve gotta deal with this—you know if Sam’s here with ah, you-know-who, yet?”

“Yeah, he texted me while we were back at the asylum.”

“Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic, he gets to keep his job now.” Joker started turning Harley back towards the building, grunting. “I was really close to firing him, you know, he took way too long-playing spy. That didn’t make really happy.”

Harley squinted, looking between Joker and Frost as he went to the driver’s side of the lambo, and to Joker as he helped her across the muddy dirt path leading up to the hotel.

“What did you mean just a second ago?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s this ‘you-know-who’?” It wasn’t quite so windy now, a breeze only slightly nipping at them both. “Did you hire a new guy? Is that it?”

“Something like that. It’s kind of a surprise.” Joker huffed, narrowly avoiding a rough stumble over a hole in the ground. “You’ll see, let’s just get in first.”

“A surprise? Ooh, I like surprises!” Harley bubbled, piping up long enough to be shot back down from the pain coming from her back. How puzzling. It wasn’t like he didn’t mention surprises last minute, but it wasn’t like him to refer to his goons as “you-know-who”. Clearly, there was more to this than he was saying, but her body seemed to be deadest in not letting her ask anymore questions.

Conversations really _could_ come later. It was about to time to just get inside and get sorted.

And by getting sorted, that meant spending the next several hours in misery. She was trying to put it in her mind that pain was just an illusory sensation, repeating J’s words to herself as they continued towards the wide set of steps nailed to the hotel’s deck.

_Pain is temporary, it’s just a sensation, shut it down..._

No matter how much she repeated them, whispered them, they didn’t seem to be working. Fuck this, whether pain was temporary or not didn’t change that it was just that. It was pain, it was distressing, it was burning, and it sucked.

Unfortunately, it was only going to keep increasing until the restless little human inside of her finally decided to give it up and stop tormenting her mother. Which....would be really soon, or another several hours.

And _oh man,_ was she hoping it wasn’t going to be another several hours.

 


	24. Chapter 24

It was dark and dusty inside the hotel, save for one lonely room towards the top of the stairs. It’s door was halfway open, revealing Melissa Quinzel standing with her back turned, cellphone in hand and pressed to her ear. Her suitcase was on the bed, only halfway unpacked, and as the cracked old clock in the hallway ticked on, she took another step forward. She stopped talking, waiting for the other voice on the end to speak.

Cracking a smile, she walked back to the bed, taking a folded shirt out from the suitcase.

“Yeah, I’m fine, honey. Everything’s fine over here.” She reassured the other voice, inspecting the shirt she’d taken out. “It’s just...yeah, something came up with your aunt, it’ll probably be another couple of days before I’m back. There’s still plenty of leftovers in the fridge—you haven’t eaten everything yet, have you? What? No—no, you can’t order pizza, the money I left you is for emergency’s only. And that’s not an emergency.”

She laughed, and dropped the shirt, heading to the window at the sound of a car revving up outside. Drawing back the translucent curtains, she peered out to see Joker’s lambo pulling off out of view.

“What, no—yeah I’m still here. Just checking something.” She kept watching, the black van also pulling out of her view. The curtains fell shut and she stepped back. “Look, Noah, I’m not going to repeat myself again. If you spend any of the cash I left you, it better be for eggs and milk. And no matter how much your brother begs, just ignore him. We’ll have pizza when I get back, I promise.”

Turning from the window, she smiled, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I love you too. Give Danny a kiss for me, okay? Okay, okay, bye.”

She hung up, turning her phone off. Sighing, she tossed it onto the bed and went back to the suitcase, stooping to scoop the folded shirt back up. The doors opening and slamming shut downstairs stopped her from achieving any of this, Joker’s loud voice echoing up the stairs, shouting her and Sam’s names out. Swallowing hard, Melissa moved from the bed, towards the door, creaking it open and slipping out. Her pace started out slow, quickening as she reached the top of the staircase.

Instantly, her gaze locked onto the pale blonde that Joker was assisting over to a sofa. Her breath hitched; in no time at all, she’d gone down the short flight of stairs. Sam came out from a nearby room with the same speed as her, both approaching the clowns.

“Boss you’re back, I—”

“Cut the conversation, get your ass out and help the others.”   Joker was quick to snap at the smaller man, causing his mouth to clamp shut. He nodded without another word, speeding out of the lobby. Melissa stood by, dumbly, feeling like her vocal chords had gone numb. She just watched as Joker helped Harley onto the cobweb-infested sofa, mind still trying to comprehend how her sister was right in front of her.

This was the first time she’d seen her in person in years; as far as she could remember, the last time she’d seen Harley face to face was when she was a cheery eleven-year old with ribbons in her hair, and a strong affinity for homework, Avril Lavigne, and gymnastics.

Not even seeing recent pictures of her in the news could’ve prepared for her how different her baby sister looked now.

Her skin was so chalky, hair so much lighter. And the tattoos...from what she could see, she’d never have envisioned the innocent little Leeny she once knew as somebody to end up with so many tattoos.

“You, what are you just standing there for?” Joker goaded, startling her, which caused any old pictures of Harley she’d had in her head to vanish. “Get over here!”

Melissa couldn’t even find her own voice, so she numbly nodded, dumbfoundedly stumbling over. She awkwardly lifted both arms, up and down, taking a wobbly step back. She wasn’t quite sure what to do, Harley hadn’t even noticed her, and Joker really wasn’t giving her much direction.

“What—what do you want me to do?” she finally asked, Joker looking at her with glaring disbelief. He stormed towards her, grabbing her harshly by the arm.

“You’re a doctor, you figure it out.” He scoffed, practically tossing her onto the couch next to Harley. She landed hard enough to send up a cloud of dust, though getting back up didn’t seem to be much an option right now considering he was standing right in front of them with a look of threat. Okay, Harley was clearly in some kind of pain, why else would he be this pushy in getting her to take a look at her?

It was common sense, she was just far too dumbfounded at this present time to understand it.

“Um...okay...okay...” Cautiously lifting one hand, she placed it on Harley’s shoulder, which in-turn caused her to tense and flinch away, glancing back at Melissa, eyes flashing. She looked back at her sister like she was a stranger, scooting back upon letting out a shrill hiss.

“Who are you? Puddin’, who is she?” She looked to Joker for answers, blinking wildly. “Is she—i _s she_ supposed be the surprise? Who the fuck is she?”

“Ugh, your sister, apparently.”   as Harley glanced back towards Melissa, face scrunching up. She seemed to be searching the other woman’s face, attempting to find something she might recognize. It was enough to make Melissa’s breath catch up in her throat, and she waited.

_“Lissy...?”_

A childlike innocence came through in Harley’s tone, reminding Melissa once again of the precocious eleven-year old sister she’d been a long time ago.

 “Is that...nah, nah it can’t be you...”

Harley looked confused, still, glancing at Joker, glancing at Melissa.

“You can see her right? She’s here?”

Joker threw up his hands, shrugging.

“I ca—for fuck’s sake, Harley, yes, she showed up at the penthouse three days ago. I think I’d know if she was real or not by now.”

“He’s right, I came looking for you.” Melissa was quick to speak, breath sounding tight as it released itself from her mouth. “I swear it’s really me, Leeny, I’m here.  I swear I’m here, okay?”

Harley squinted at Melissa. She didn’t look doubtful, but she didn’t seem as confused anymore. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t confused, because she very much was; too much had happened that night, far too much for her brain to accept and there was more coming, how was she supposed to process seeing her sister? She wanted to be happy, like, a small part of her wanted to give in and hug the other woman, to smile at her, but there was just too much going on...it felt like a building was caving in on her.

“Liss...” More was in her mind, more she wanted to say to Melissa, her words being cut off by her voice crumpling into a tiny whine, eyes snapping shut. Hands clung to the torn sofa, at the webs, and she could feel Melissa’s grabbing on her shoulders, the gasp of concern.

“What’s wrong? Leeny?” _Breathe, breathe—fucking breathe, you wuss. It’s not that bad. We’ve had worse._ “What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?”

“Well gee, I wonder!” Joker snapped at Melissa, sounding, and looking, pretty damn annoyed. “She’s having contractions, Einstein, which means that we’re soon going to be parents, and that you’re going to be an aunt. Figure it out yet?”

“Hey, time out, pud...she gets it.”  Harley protested, laying back on the couch, exhaling deeply and wrapping one arm over her extended abdomen. She was really over having to repeat this same story; heck she’d already had to repeat it to two people already; first Ivy, then Frost. Melissa could piece the puzzles together, especially after the mouthful she’d just gotten.

“I hope she has, because I’m done explaining. Y’know I hate explaining, it’s tiresome.” Hands on his hips, Joker grumbled. “You’re really trying my patience, doc. Just get to work and I’ll reconsider killing you.”

“...work?” Realization overcame Melissa, processing Joker’s words. Her mouth opened to object, several times, before any audible words came up, as she got up.

“Now wait a minute, Joker, I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do—”

“I’m _expecting_ you to do your job. Do I have to keep reminding you?” Harley’s eyes opened, she slightly lifted her head to see Joker speaking to her sister. “You’re a goddamn doctor, Mel, that’s the whole reason you’re still alive!”

“Wait, she’s a doc—”

“A hematologist!” Melissa inadvertently interrupted Harley, jabbing her finger at J. “I’m a _hematologist,_ I’ve only treated people with blood-clotting disorders, leukemia! I barely know jack-shit about delivering babies, okay?”

“Yeah? Then now would be a great time to learn!” Joker slapped Melissa’s hand down and pointed at Harley. “If you’re so damn insistent that she’s your sister, then help her out! Otherwise you’ll be introduced to my pistol, and I’ll make sure it’s a _forma_ l introduction.”

Falling silent, Melissa stared back at him, then back to Harley. Joker’s words stuck, chest growing heavy.  He did have a point...he really did have a point, which was weird when she thought about it, because she’d never thought the Joker as someone who could make such logical points like that.

She swallowed hard, palms sweating.

“Okay...yeah...”

Moving away from Joker, she went back to the sofa, bending to help Harley back up, as much as the younger woman didn’t seem keen on moving. Not that she could blame her considering she’d once been in her position at one point in her life, but down here in the old lobby was not the ideal place to be in her condition. This sofa was disgusting; not that the bed in her room was any better, but you couldn’t really be picky in this place. At least she’d been careful to clean off all the cobwebs and dust from the bed. 

Now that Harley was on her feet, Melissa held onto her, both women heading towards the stairs as Joker watched them. Harley’s stride was small, footsteps close together, and it bothered him. With her being so close to him for most of the night, he hadn’t actually seen how much she was tripping over her feet, how much she was slumping. Sure, he’d felt those things, but seeing it?

He didn’t know which was worse. It shouldn’t be bothering him given that he’d seen her like this many times before, but this was different. This was so much more different.

 “I’ll just...we’ll go ahead and get upstairs, get you to bed...” Melissa was saying, stopping in front of the stairs. “Think you can make it up the stairs?”

“I’d rather walk on hot coals.” Harley bluntly stated, head sagging against her sister’s shoulder. That wasn’t an exaggeration, she was sure she could take burns in her feet vs the excruciating throbbing she felt now.

“I don’t blame you, but look...it’s not a long walk...” Gently, Melissa urged Harley towards the first step, going up onto it. “Here, just hang onto me, I’ll help you...”

She succeeded in getting her up, onto one step, onto the next, although she moved very lackadaisical.  The stairs creaked and bent underneath her the further they went. Halfway, Harley reached her arm out to her free side, realizing that the Joker was not coming up with them. She abruptly stopped, despite Melissa’s efforts to keep her moving. Her head spun back, gaze falling down the stairs to where Joker stood.

“Puddin’...?”

_Scared._

She sounded scared, she hated it. She knew he hated it too, she fully expected a scowl from him. Instead...nothing. Just blankness, as he returned her gaze, like his mind had wandered off for a split second.

“What?”

“You’re...you’re coming up, right?” _Don’t leave me again, don’t. I need you with me._ “Right?”

“.... sure. Yeah, just as soon as the guys get back inside.”

He didn’t sound very enthusiastic, more like cold and uncertain of his words. Melissa nudged Harley into continuing up the stairs, this didn’t stop her from keeping her eyes back on her puddin’. She kept them locked on him, wide and wondering. He kept watching her as well, knowing what she was thinking. But he chose to not say anything, a smile twisting out from the blankness.

It did seem to ease the uneasiness in Harley’s expression, and she returned the smile, albeit somewhat weaker than his. Their gazes remained locked on each other, as Joker’s smile slowly but surely faded. He watched as Harley disappeared at the top of the stairs with Melissa, a door shutting, followed by the opening of the lobby doors.

* * *

 

Not even the small light in the room could change how utterly dim it was.

It wasn’t the biggest room in the world, or the fanciest. Harley imagined it must’ve been at one point, why else would this place have been called “The Palace” when it was first opened? The walls had maybe been a nicer shade of blue before, not as crumbly, and there wouldn’t be as many roaches or spiders hanging about. Nothing look too clean, either, except for the few chairs in the sitting room that looked to have been dusted off.

Somehow, Harley preferred it over Arkham, regardless of all this.

Melissa helped her inside safely, kicking the door shut behind them with her foot. They moved to an open door, which led straight into a small bedroom. The bed looked like it’d been made over with cleaner sheets and blankets, and Melissa’s open suitcase was placed on it, clothes halfway out of it. Harley swore she could spot another set of sheets tucked somewhere inside, suggesting Melissa hadn’t been too fond upon discovering she’d be staying in a dust and bug ridden old hotel, which explained why things looked somewhat tidier.

 It clearly wasn’t any sort of hotel room she was accustomed to staying at, that was for sure. If only she knew how often her baby sister had camped out at this place, oh would she be surprised.

“Hey, I have to ask...” Melissa shrugged Harley off long enough to shut the bedroom door, allowing her to seat herself on a chair. “Your water hasn’t broken yet...has it? I just uh, wanna know where we’re at here...”

Harley shook her head.

“I don’t think so. These contractions are gettin’ kinda close though...”

_Uncomfortably close, to be more precise. Like a mouse near a mouse trap type of close._

Her sister had gone over to her suitcase whilst she’d spoke, retrieving a baggy t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that had been packed underneath the extra bedsheets. Upon coming back, she handed these to Harley.

“Then I guess you have time to change.” She pushed her hair behind her ears, sighing, then moved to opening the bathroom door, flicking the light on inside. Harley gathered the clothes, getting up from the chair. She ambled over to the bathroom and stepped inside.

“Are you going to need help?” Melissa was asking, as she started to close the door. Again, Harley shook her head.

“I’ll be fine...but hey, Lissy?”

“Yeah?”

“...it’s great to see ya, just thought I’d let you know.”

Harley smiled at her sister briefly, before the door shut, obscuring her from Melissa’s view. In turn, the other woman had a small, stunned smile of her own, promptly having her attention taken to the buzzing phone she’d left on the coffee table, screen lighting up with a message from Noah. She left her post at the door, unaware Harley was listening to her footsteps walk away.

She waited until they stopped, then turned, blowing out a loud sigh as she slumped against the door, clothes pressed tight in her arms. What a rollercoaster these last few hours had been...this was probably the first chance she’d gotten to slow down since they’d left the isle, the first moment she’d really had to herself. Yet this didn’t mean relaxing, so much was going on, in her mind, in her body...too much to even think about relaxing.

Conversations, relaxing, catching up...yup, that could _definitely_ all come later. Baby was her focus for now, Baby was coming, and she needed her mother’s attention. It was time to focus on one thing at a time. For starters, she decided stripping out of this goddamn uniform would be the first thing to do; her water hadn’t broken and things seemed to have calmed down in her lower regions for the time being. It seemed safe to at least try to get these clothes off.

She sat the folded clothes on her counter, hands slipping off them and onto the dirty porcelain. Shakily breathing, she wrapped her fingers around the edge, leaning, looking up at her reflection. It dawned on her that now was really the first time she had seen her reflection since being arrested, and by God did she look awful.

Lack of sleep was written in the dark circles under her eyes, skin paler than usual, hair a disarray, not to mention the remnants of the bruises she’d suffered at the hands of Jessie. She wanted to ask Melissa if she had any makeup on her, some hair ties so she’d at least look decent, but decided against it. What would the point in fixing herself up, it wasn’t like she’d be getting to go out dancing anytime soon. The only place she’d be going after this would no doubt be the bed.

Prying her fingers away from the edge of the counter, she turned on the cold-water faucet, running her hands underneath, splashing ice cold water onto her face. She scrubbed, like that would somehow make the bruises go away. She wished they would go away, she didn’t want to be reminded of anything that happened in Arkham, didn’t want to remember anything that Jessie had told her.

_“But…I’d imagine you’d have to be tough if you were pregnant with the Joker’s hellspawn, huh?”_

She scrubbed harder, pressing her lips together tightly.

_“Seriously—look at yourself. You were really going places---now you’re a has-been, a wannabe—like, basically an ex-royal pregnant with her lover’s bastard child. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so depressing.”_

Jessie’s voice transitioned to Joan Leland’s the harder she scrubbed, the longer the water drizzled down the faucet.

_“See, this is what I’m talking about Harley. This life you’ve created for yourself, it’s not real. It’s not who you are…the Joker manipulated you, he used you to break himself out, and how did he thank you?”_

She shut the faucet off, staring back at herself once more, breathing heavily. Her skin looked raw and red thanks to her scrubbing, and it hurt. Her knuckles tightened, more of Joan’s words intermingling through her other thoughts. It felt like a bee hive was abuzz in her head, ignorant of the queen bee’s orders to shut up.

_“It made me sick to see you like that, Harley… and seeing you like this…like how you are now, it just worries me. How? How could you even fathom staying with that man after what he did to you? Let alone have his child?”_

_She’s right, Harley, they’re all right. How did you end up at this point in your life?_

“Can it, Harleen...” _Her timing couldn’t have been worse, did she just like waiting until moments like this?_

As usual, Harleen did not heed her warning. Her voice kept dragging on, cutting through Joan Leland’s, through Jessie’s.

_Just look at you, you look like something the cat dragged in! You’re pregnant with your patient’s baby, he was your patient, Harley! This isn’t how your life was supposed to go!_

“I said can it!”

She screamed, ramming her fist into the mirror, which was already suffering from a small crack in the lower half. A bit of glass shattered, crumbling into the sink, her breathing slowing down. Chest heaving, she glanced back up at herself.

No, this wasn’t how her life wasn’t supposed to go. Never had she ever imagined herself at this point, heck if she were still Harleen she’d be living in that white house with the picket fence and red windowpanes. She’d already made up her mind a long time ago that that picket fence and red windowpanes were not for her, someone else could have them.

They just weren’t meant for her.

 And they weren’t meant for Baby or Mister J either.

“Leeny!” She startled at her sister’s voice, Harleen vanishing out of her mind. “Are you okay? I heard the glass breaking—”

“N-no...nah, I’m fine!”

She could just picture Melissa looking alarmed at how bitter she’d sounded; she hadn’t mean to, but some of her frustration at Harleen hadn’t yet left her. Her head hadn’t stopped buzzing either, and she couldn’t quite tell if her sister had responded to that or not; no matter. No more distractions, she was in here to get changed, not yell at herself for the hundredth time in a row.

Harley turned away from the sink, slipping her shirt off. It fell into a crumpled heap, leaving her in nothing but a thin tank top she’d been wearing underneath, which barely covered her stomach. The pants were a little more complicated to get off, but they soon joined the shirt on the floor in a similar heap, not even resembling what they really were.

And as she was sliding on the baggy shirt Melissa had lent her, she felt it. That dreaded popping, and something warm...and wet, trickling down her leg. Her entire body went stiff.

_Fuck._

She dropped the sweatpants, which fell into the small puddle that was forming underneath her feet.

* * *

 

Daylight was breaking through the filthy, grimy windows, peaking into the dark room.  The Joker was seated on the edge of an old chair, leaning forward with both arms resting on his thighs. His feet tapped restlessly, sending hollow echoes through the floorboards. Every now and then, he’d perk up at the splitting moans that traversed from the bedroom, causing his feet to stop tapping for only a minute, and when it was over, he went right back to the same state; hunched over with both feet tapping at the ground.

He’d been this way for a solid two hours. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this...nervous, over something...but just sitting out here waiting, without knowing the state of Harley’s condition was excruciatingly horrid. It felt like there was a part of him that been amputated off, like he was bleeding out at the idea of not knowing how that part was faring. Never had he ever heard her in that much pain before...normally human suffering was music to his ears, but not in this case. 

_Certainly not in this case._

He’d been downstairs when he first heard the chaos; had been discussing something with Frost regarding breaking the captured goons out, when he’d heard the scream rattling down the stairs, out from the closed door they had come from. He’d broken off their conversation right then and there, running up and into the room, to the bedroom, where Melissa was trying to help up a keeled-over Harley from the bathroom floor.

She’d crouched over in a puddle of her own bodily fluid, whimpering while her sister tried to coax her into standing. Her efforts sank the minute Harley had spotted Joker coming into the room; she’d reached for him, hands grabbing like he was the life ring that would pull her up out of the pain she was in. It hadn’t taken him long to do so, pulling her up, into his arms; so much of what happened after that was like a traffic rush, so much happening, so much talking, he barely remembered leaving the room. He’d left Harley on the bed, last he’d seen her, her face had gone more deathly pale than it had ever been before, eyes wide and scared as if she were a deer caught in the headlights.

It was not the lasting image of her he preferred to have in his head. So vulnerable and frightened like that...it was too unnatural for someone who bore the title “Queen of Gotham”. She was fearless, crazy, brave...but he supposed, she was still human. Maybe she had fears that even he didn’t know about.

Taking out a golden-trimmed switchblade from his coat, he flicked it open and started picking at his nails. Two hours...a whole goddamn two hours of having that picture in his head, having to hear her moans... it was starting to wear on him. The last update he’d gotten had been thirty minutes ago, when Melissa had come out to inform him about something regarding a mucus plug...whatever that was, it sounded gross, but apparently, it’d come undone the minute Harley’s water had broken. She wasn’t sure if that was going to cause any problems or not, but promised she’d let him know of any other changes.

Well, it’d been another thirty minutes, and he hadn’t heard anything from her, save for a few words she was saying to Harley. It was safe to assume things were pretty much the same in there. And that’s what was bothering him; he hated not knowing, hated being kept in the dark. It really wasn’t fair, and it only made things worse on his end.

The door opening nearly made him lose grip on the switchblade, narrowly making him miss out on cutting a fingernail off. But as he looked towards it, he could see that the bedroom door had remained shut, telling him that it had been the other door that had opened. Cursing under his breath, he saw where Frost had entered.

“Am I paying you to get my hopes up now?” he muttered, resuming in picking at his nails.

“Sorry, sir...I was just wanting to see how things were up here.” Frost apologized, shutting the door. He folded both hands behind his back, glancing at the bedroom door with uncertainty. “Is Ms. Quinn doing any better?”

“Hell, if I know, Dr. Goody-Two-Shoes isn’t letting me in the room.” Closing the switchblade, he sat it on the chair cushion. “I’ve been sitting here for a good hour now listening to that shit...and you know what, Johnny? It’s not enjoyable, nah, it’s not enjoyable at all.”

He stretched his hand towards the door, as another groan emitted from behind it, further bringing a point to his words. Picking his blade back up, he flicked it open, this time, running it along the wooden armrests of his chair. Frost shuffled over to an adjacent chair, sitting in it as he looked back from the door.

“I uh, see what you mean...”

“Mm...” Visible lines could be seen on the wood the further Joker dragged it. “Yeah, and I’m sure you can hear it just as well. You know I usually don’t mind this stuff, Johnny, but Christ, I can’t stomach listening to her for another second.”

He stabbed the blade into the wood, leaving it stuck up mid-air.

“She’s never been this loud about pain before, usually she just whimpers about it for a few minutes and then passes out.” Settling back into his chair, he propped both elbows against the armrests, one barely touching the switchblade. “I... _do not_ like this.... I do not like this at all.”

He looked so perplexed and bothered, knee starting to bounce. Frost observed his boss’s behavior, deducting it’d be better to not speak to him at this current moment. He’d wanted to, just out of concern or to perhaps say something encouraging, but that really wasn’t his forte. He’d said far too much in the past several months, he was content going back to being the quiet, sullen right-hand man he was content being.

This time, it was the bedroom door that creaked open, just long enough for Melissa to slip out. Her presence caused Joker to snatch up his switchblade, leaping out of his seat as she walked over.

“ _Please_ tell me you have good news...” Judging by the quiet look on her face, he had already gotten the feeling that whatever news she had to say was anything _but_ good. “I’ve given you another thirty minutes to come up with something.”

Melissa eyed the switchblade momentarily, swallowing hard as she wrung both hands together.

“She’s... she’s getting close enough to start pushing...” she offered, having to tear her eyes off the knife to keep her voice from shaking even more. “It shouldn’t be too much longer, but...”

Joker held the blade out, inquisitively cocking his head.

“But?”

“But, from what I’m seeing, she’s at a strong risk for tearing, which could mean she loses more blood...” Melissa paused, quickly continuing when she spotted a flash of anger glazing over Joker’s eyes. “She’s—she’s doing well, though, fighting through it. I’ve kept her talking, just in case. She’s been asking for you for a good fifteen minutes now...and, since it’s almost time...”

She stopped wringing her hands, letting them fall to her sides.

“I mean, she really could use the support...”

The flashes of anger hadn’t quite cooled yet, though Joker had closed the switchblade and slipped it back into his coat. Melissa didn’t need to say much else; that was all he needed to hear. Shoving past her, he made his way into the other room, to his Harley. Another one of her moans subsided, her body arching where it lay on the bed as he stopped next to her. Her eyelids opened.

“Mistah J...”

Pasty white hands shot up, grabbing his arm and nearly pulling him down onto the bed. She looked a horrid mess; hair damp, beads of sweat rolling down her cheeks, her chin, every bit of her face.  The shirt Melissa had lent her was clinging to her body now, it too drenched in sweat. The sheet beneath her was covered in all sorts of substances, red, brown, yellow...mainly urine, and blood to be precise. The one clean thing in the room was the sheet covering her legs, but even that bore a couple of blood stains on it.

If it weren’t for the visible sight of her chest heaving up and down, you’d think she was dead.

She grabbed at him still, clawing at his arms like a bothersome animal. He let himself sit down on the bed, slowly but surely, prying her hands back and taking them in his own. He’d wanted to give her one of his famous smiles, but couldn’t bring himself to do even that, not when he saw her like this. It might have been a natural sight for many people, but to him, it was entirely unnatural. His queen, laid out on a bed, in pain, and giving birth.

Never in a thousand years had he ever pictured such a thing.

“Harls...”

She used him to pull herself back up, loosening her hands from his, slipping her arms around him.

“Puddin’...I’m so glad you’re still here...” She spoke in-between breaths. “I’m so glad you’re here, I was scared...I was so scared you’d left... they kept saying you’d left...you said you’d come up, you hadn’t come up, they started saying you left...”

“Why would I leave?” He pulled back from her, disbelief on his face. Hands held her face, which looked guilty. She shrugged her gaze downwards, causing him to sigh and press his thumb against her cheek, brushing down any sweat beads.

“Oh Harley...Harley, why do I even leave you alone...why would I ever...don’t you listen to them. I’ve told you, time and time again...they’re just pesky little nuisances you have to live with. They don’t control everything.”

His fingers wrapped themselves underneath her chin, lifting her head upwards to face him. Harley looked about ready to wilt; he wasn’t sure if it was from his touch or from the pain she was feeling, but she was weakly smiling now...that was good, wasn’t it? Sometimes he could never tell what her mood would be like after the voices had had their way with her.

“I know they don’t, puddin’.... that’s why I kept telling ‘em you’d be here. I kept telling ‘em until they shut up.” She sounded so proud, despite her wheezing and heavy breathing, he could hear the woman he’d fallen for. “And now? They shut up! They aren’t bothering me, pud, I made ‘em go away—”

And like many touching moments between them, it was interrupted by Harley’s words twisting into a sickly groan. She almost fell from his grasp, would have hit the bed had he not been holding on to her. Giggling, her head rolled around, eyes darting up towards him.

“Only Baby’s talking _nowwww_...” she half-sang in a whisper, giggles softening. “She knew you didn’t leave, Mistah J, she knew you were still here. She didn’t wanna come out without ya here...” 

Oh great, she had _another_ new voice?

He supposed he didn’t need to bother asking her who exactly “Baby” was, common sense had already answered his question. At least she didn’t sound half as mean as the others, that didn’t change how much it bothered him though. Was this really a new voice or was Harley just delirious from the pain? All of that was highly debatable, as it could very well be either, or both.

As he pondered this, Melissa came back into the room.  She didn’t say anything, moving to the foot of the bed, and resuming what Joker presumed to be her former position on the chair in front of it. Harley’s giggles subsided entirely, being replaced by a loud sigh as she let her head rest on the Joker’s shoulder.

“Baby can come out now...you can come out now, sweetie, Daddy’s here, just like I said he would be...”

She kept mumbling, voice silencing too low to even discern what she was saying, but he kept his hold on her, looking over as Melissa was pulling the sheets back. No emotion on her face indicated that she was seeing anything good, a combination of that and Harley’s mumbling words to “Baby” was starting to make his chest hurt. Never did he ever want to go through this kind of ordeal again, not if it meant having to be witness for it all.

_Though he wasn’t sure if waiting outside the room was more preferable...fuck it, this wasn’t a win-win scenario at all._

Either way, he’d be bothered. There was no changing that.

“Baby, Baby...can come out now...”

Melissa had pulled the sheet back down and picked her phone up, typing something into it. Harley’s mumbling carried on, every word sounding fainter than the last. When he looked down at her, he could see her eyes fluttering, getting to see how fully bloodshot they looked underneath her eyelids. The last time they’d looked like that was the nights following her rescue from prison, how she’d spent sleepless nights awake because of nightmares.

This wasn’t like that at all; she wasn’t awake from nightmares, this was just all so different. _A good different...no...no, this was a bad different._

“Come out...out, out, out...Momma wants to see you...” She was mumbling still, her body swaying in his hold. He let her go, carefully, letting her lay back down on the pillows. But one of her hands recoiled, staying locked on his arm. Even though her eyes were halfway shut, and she was delirious from blood loss, it was a firm hold, solidifying that he would not be able to slip away from this party just yet.

Melissa finished typing whatever it was she’d been doing on her phone and set the device down, moving to check underneath the sheet again.

“Okay....Leeny—Leeny?” She looked up, Joker having to nudge Harley into opening her eyes, as she squinted towards her sister. “You’re almost fully dilated—”

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the last goddamn hour, Lissy.” She weakly interrupted, shifting on the bed. “And me and Baby are gettin’ real tired; can’t you just wake me up when it’s time to push?”

“Afraid not, because you’re nearly 10 centimeters.”  Melissa warned, standing from her spot. She picked up a cup from the end table, which looked like it was full of half-melted ice. “Until that happens, I’m going to dump this out and get you some fresh ice chips. Think you can hang on until I get back?”

“I’ll try my hardest...” Harley winced, hissing under her breath. “But Baby’s gettin’ impatient, Lissy—she really wants to come out. She keeps telling me she’s ready.”

“Well...’Baby’s just going to have to wait a second...” Melissa chuckled as she headed towards the bathroom, though it sounded a little uncomfortable.  “I’m sure she can wait.”

“Oh, I’m doubting it, if she’s anything like her mother, she’s probably pouting right now as we speak.” Joker jeered, almost laughing at the gasp of disbelief from Harley. He couldn’t help himself; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to crack a joke at Harley’s expense, and her reactions were always well worth the smack in the arm.

“Anything like _me?_ You’re one to talk, Mister I-Waited-Nine-Months!” She snapped, causing him to cackle in response. Their continuing banter didn’t go unheard of from Melissa, even while she stood in the bathroom dumping the slushed ice into the dirty sink. She couldn’t help but smile; if it weren’t for the fact she was aware of the things these two had done, she’d almost think they were a cute and perfectly domestic couple. Perhaps they were in their own way, but it wasn’t a way that Melissa herself could understand.

Love worked so differently with so many people...how did theirs work?

She’d have time to figure that out later, because before she could even think of leaving the bathroom, an earsplitting howl sent her running back into the bedroom, where Harley was sitting up in bed, looking like someone had just yanked her out of a Jack-in-the-Box. Her panting was louder, heavier; her breath sounded like it was hitching. She was hanging in Joker’s arms, leaned forward against them. They looked like they were the only things keeping her from making a faceplant into the mattress.

“What happened?” Melissa ran back to Harley’s bed, tossing the cup to the other side of the room as she planted herself back in her seat at the foot of it.

“She’s coming, she said she’s coming. I felt it.” Harley panted wildly, rocking in J’s hold on her.

“Now? But you were barely at 9 CM when I checked—” Melissa’s voice stopped, the minute she looked under the sheet. There was silence on her end before she glanced back up.

“Alright—alright, Leeny, no need to panic. Remember what I told you, just keep breathing. Deep breaths, in and out; don’t get worked up—”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one pushing this kid out!” Harley bitterly retorted, fingers latching onto Joker’s arms like vices. “I’ve been breathing—I’m breathing now, it’s not helping!”

“Maybe it would help if you shut up—” Joker interjected, shutting up at the loud hiss Harley gave off.

“Joker. C’mon, she doesn’t need snide remarks right now.” Melissa scolded, picking up a folded towel from her suitcase. “I think some encouragement would be a big help instead.”

“Or painkillers. I want painkillers, ya got any of those in your suitcase?” Harley perked up, not before groaning again.

“Sorry, no.” Her sister unfolded the towel, setting it on the bloody sheets. “Only vitamins, I doubt those would be much help.”

She pulled the sheets back a bit more, standing up.

“Alright....you’re right at 10 centimeters. In just one minute, I want you to start pushing; I’ll tell you when to stop. Okay?”

Lips pressed together tightly, Harley could only nod. Her frightened eyes darted up at Joker, and he could see it; he could see the fear running rampant, more rampant than it had ever been before. He could even feel her heartbeat hammering against him, her body vibrating. There was no mistaking it; she was _terrified,_ and she was looking at him for reassurance. Like she always did.

So, he tried. He tried to give her one of his smiles this time, but it felt strained. It must’ve looked strained too if the fear didn’t disappear from her eyes.

“Mistah J, I’m scared...what if I can’t do this?” she whispered, one fist curling up against her chest. Her breathing was fast, catching up in her throat.

He couldn’t believe what she was saying.

It was one thing for his queen to be in pain like this, but it was another thing for her to be doubting herself. Only other people got to talk down about her like this and not get away with it; anyone who had would be better off apologizing lest they wished to have their fingers broken.

The strained smile started slipping from his features, and he readjusted his hold of her; fingers grabbing her by the face, turning her to look him directly in the eyes.

“Harley...Harley Quinn, you chased me on a motorbike, held me at gunpoint...” he started, voice low. “ _Willingly_ jumped into a vat of chemicals and _survived;_ you’ve killed, you’ve maimed, all of your own accord. Remember when we played with that little brat of Batsy’s? Remember how—how you broke his kneecap with your bat?”

“Y-yeah, I remember, puddin’...” Harley softly, but nervously, whimpered, shifting around in his arms.

“Hey, I hate to interrupt but...” Melissa’s voice cut into their conversation. “It’s time, guys.”

Harley’s breathing sped up even more at her sister’s words. She tried looking away, but Joker would not let go, keeping her face towards him.

“Pud—”

“No, Harley, you keep listening to me.” He cut her off before she could panic again, thumb caressing her chin. “My Harley-girl, you’ve done so, _so_ much, you’ve seen so much, and you’ve suffered so much—hell, you’ve even taken down an ancient witch before. That’s nothing that I can say I’ve ever done.”

He snorted, and his smile came back; a little more naturally, and less strained.

“If you can survive all that, and if you can manage to have lived this long by my side, I think giving birth to my child will be a walk in the park for you.”

There; how was that for encouragement? It did seem to have worked, judging by the tiny smile Harley was giving him.

“You think?”

“Oh, I _know_.” He nodded at her, the smile never leaving. “A little pain has never scared you off before; I don’t see why now should be any different.”

_Except that it was different. But it shouldn’t be._

He let her face turn away from him, not before pressing his lips to hers. He kept her in his arms, as she turned to look forward once more, inhaling sharply. She nodded at Melissa.

“Give the signal, Lissy. I’m ready.”

_Oh yes, that was his Harley._

And Melissa did just as she said; it took her a good minute of composing herself to say the words out loud, but the minute she uttered that one infamous word, the room was overtaken a shrill, agonizing scream as Harley’s body convulsed and arched, as the fight to bring her daughter into this world had at last been set into motion.

* * *

 

She thought she’d be ready for this.

After all the long months of preparation, the baby books, Youtube videos, and the long nights spent awake, lying in bed while googling various pregnancy related things on her phone...all of that combined could never have prepared Harley for this day, for this very moment. She’d dealt with pain before; she’d had to remind herself, she’d dealt with pain that was ten times worse than this.

Now, after only five minutes of pushing, she was beginning to rethink that thought. She couldn’t describe what the sensation was like except for burning; it felt like every inch of her loins had been set on fire, every muscle in her body contracting and pulling with each and every difficult push.

With each push, she twisted and writhed. And every time Melissa told her to stop, she could’ve sworn every bone and muscle in her body was snapping back into place. It truly felt as if there were some cruel puppet master in control of her actions, making sure that she suffered with each movement.

_Twice._

She had pushed only _twice._

Somehow, it didn’t feel as though she were any closer to be done.  Her head was spinning, and she was caught between wanting to throw up or pass out. Her skin felt hot and she was sure was sweaty enough to stick to the bedsheets at this point.

But she could still feel Joker holding her up, the coldness from his hands seeping in through the soaked material of her shirt. With each passing contraction, when Melissa gave the signal to start pushing, he had held onto her, uttering naught but sharp whispers into her ear. She could barely hear him sometimes, over the sound of her own loud shrieks, but he kept talking. Kept repeating words, kept whispering...the longer the pushing went on, her shrieking silenced enough to the point of where she could hear him, and only him.

She never imagined he would be here for this. Holding her while she gave birth, speaking to her...during the earlier months of her pregnancy, she’d envisioned him back at the penthouse, without a care in the world. She’d envisioned herself in a chilly, white hospital room, surrounded by doctors, and in one of those stiff beds. Or in one of those inflatable swimming pools, doing a water birth. She’d considered it, just for an excuse to throw in a bunch of pool floaties with her.

Yet she was here instead; in one of their hideouts, in a dark, dirty old hotel room, with her puddin’ holding onto her and one doctor, her big sister, in front of her. Any second now...any second, she’d be holding her little princess in her arms.

_Her little clown, her baby.... their baby._

“Stop!”

She twisted, letting out a growl as the fiery sensation died down, allowing her body to drop back into the slumped position it’d been in previously. Her head fell back onto Joker’s shoulder, chest heaving heavily, while Melissa could be heard gasping.

“I can see the head—Leeny, I see her head, you’re almost done.” Her voice sounded like it was echoing, but her words brought relief to Harley’s mind. She thankfully hadn’t heard a peep from Harleen or Teddy during these minutes, only her own worried voice freaking out to the extent of where her head felt like busting open.

“Hear that, Harls? You’re almost at the finish line.” She could feel Joker’s chuckle rumble against her, and even though she shared the same attitude towards the prospect of finally being done, she felt far too weary and tired to muster up any kind of joyful expression. She exhaled deeply, letting her eyelids droop shut.

“--just a couple of more pushes ought to do it—”

Her eyelids had barely shut when she’d caught the last half of Melissa’s sentence, flying back open. A couple of more? She didn’t know if she had that much left in her—by now, she was sure she’d lost at least a couple of gallons-worth of blood, amongst any other bodily fluids. This whole birth was taking a huge toll on her body, she was so close to being done—and she _still_ had to push a couple of more times?

“N-no, no, I can’t...” she mumbled, attempting to push herself up, out of Joker’s grasp. “I can’t do it, not a couple more times. I want it to be over now, can’t you just—ugh, can’t you just pull her out now?”

“Not yet, I’m sorry.” Melissa apologized, and boy did she sound apologetic. Harley knew she shouldn’t be complaining, as far as she knew, her big sister had done at this one time in her life—probably twice, but she’d been so young the first time. It’d probably been so much worse for her, though that didn’t change how much this also sucked. It didn’t change how much pain she was in.

“Liss—please, please, it fucking hurts.” She grunted.  “I don’t wanna do it again, I can’t.”

“Don’t say that.” Joker hissed, pulling her back against him. “You don’t get to say that, remember who you are, Harley Quinn, what you’ve done, what you’ve felt. You don’t get to wuss out.”

“Oh, shut up, you’d be wussin’ out too if you were in this position.” Harley weakly snapped, eyes rolling. He was about to respond to this when she cut him off; “And if you even fuckin’ think about telling me to shut it down again, I’ll give you a pain of your own to shut down, I swear to God I will.”

_He had no doubt she would. She was as dedicated to making good on her threats almost as much as he was._

But he couldn’t stand hearing her talk like this, he thought he’d gotten that crap under control before all this started. He wasn’t going to let her keep pushing herself down like this, not when she was so close. He was going to make sure she got through this; he knew she was growing weaker, but she just had to get through this. _She’d been through so much worse...._

“Alright, it’s time again.” Melissa shifted around on her seat, picking up the folded towel.  “Start pushing, go for as long as you can. If you’re lucky, this might be the last time. If not, you know the drill.”

She did, and she hated it. But she also wanted this to be over with, and she wanted it to be over now. She was done waiting, she just wanted to see their baby already.

That didn’t make this any easier, especially not now. Not when she was at the point of passing out, and not when the burning sensation had just gotten twenty times worse.

“Fucking—fucking hell! Christ!” Harley writhed in pain, screaming out loud as she crumpled back into Joker. His hold remained, but he was silent. He wasn’t whispering this time, even as she kept pushing, even as she kept screaming.

_Why wasn’t he talking—she needed to hear him now, she needed it more than ever. Why wasn’t he talking—_

“Keep going, Leeny, keep going! She’s almost out!”

Her vision was darkening, head pounding. Every voice started echoing even more now, arms, legs—every bit of her was shaking, quivering. She screamed—could only scream, unable to stop herself.

“Stop, Leeny, stop for just a second. Take a deep breath.” Melissa was speaking, but she could hear nothing she’d just said. Her thoughts were going fast, like racehorses—no, like a school of fish, swimming at a rapid pace in the vast sea of her mind space.

_No, no--didn’t want to stop—she didn’t want to stop, she wanted this to be over. She wanted this to be over so badly, it was too much. She just wanted to see her daughter already, wanted to hold her._

“That’s it, in and out. Deep breaths, get ready.”

_No no no—not again, not again. She was supposed to be done already, she was supposed to be holding her. Why wasn’t she here yet—_

“No, no, no....” It was then she felt his breath against the nape of her neck, travelling, moving close to her ear. She could feel his lips brushing her skin, as words began to pour out from them. His hands were on her shoulders, cold, and squeezing harshly.

“Harley...you’re at the bottom of a chemical vat. You just fell in...” Her thoughts began calming as he spoke, even though she wasn’t entirely certain of what it was he was saying.

_What was this, these weren’t words of encouragement—what was he doing?_

“You’re sinking...you’ve sank, you’ve fallen to the very lowest part...”

His voice was falling into the background, her eyes slowly shutting. He kept talking, and she felt herself making impact with something—something liquid, and she was falling through it. She could hear the splash, his voice growing even more hollow.

She opened her eyes.

_They burned. Oh, how they burned._

_So much darkness, so much burning—burning—darkness—_

Her limbs were suspended, floating in the deep, darkness of the chemicals. She had no control, once again feeling like a puppeteer must’ve been in control of her actions. She could feel herself falling, further, further...

_“You’re sinking...you’ve sunk, Harls...what are you going to do?”_

She didn’t know why she opened her mouth, her mouth instantly filled with a bitter substance, and her lungs burned. Arms—legs, flailing, she kept falling. She couldn’t see him, where was he? She could hear him talking, but where was he?

_“Pull yourself up. Pull yourself up, Harls.”_

_“How?!”_ She wanted to ask, wanted to scream, but she was burning. She was in so much pain, she couldn’t pull herself up.

_She needed help. She needed help—oh God, she needed help—_

No.

No, she was Harley Quinn. She didn’t need help. She could do this.

So, she began to move her arms, kick her legs beneath her. Up...up, she was going up. Slowly...very slowly, but she was going up. Now it wasn’t so dark, she could see a light...very faintly, yes, but she could see it. It was growing closer, but the pain was getting worse. Every part of her felt like it was in flames, but she couldn’t stop.

_So close, so close...._

_“Keep going, baby, keep going. Keep going!”_

He sounded closer. She couldn’t see him, where was he?

She could see the blurry outline of _someone_ , though. It wasn’t J, and she was sure it wasn’t Melissa. They looked so much smaller...yet, she felt like she knew them.

She’d stopped, staring up at the blurry figure. Barely, just barely...she could see a small pair of curly blonde pigtails...a pair of steely blue eyes, cutting right through the chemicals, returning her stare.

_Baby..._

Harley forced her body upwards, grunting, body burning, aching.

_Baby, Baby, Baby..._

With final scream, she emerged from the chemicals.

And everything disappeared. The little figure, the other vats, the chemicals. She was back; back in the hotel room, back in the bed. Her ears weren’t filled with the chemicals anymore, not filled with Joker’s words.

Instead, there was a small whimper. A tiny, small whimper.

Then, the loud shrill cry of a newborn filled the room, echoing out throughout every hollow wall in the building.

 

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

Harley’s scream shook the room, her body practically collapsing in Joker’s grasp. He shouted her name, but aside from her soft whimpering, she had gone completely silent. Her body was shivering, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She’d slid out of his hold, back onto the bed, breathing heavily, her pulse practically visible through the veins of her neck.

_It was done. It was over._

_It was all over._

The silence in the room was overtaken by a shrill wail, causing Joker to turn his attention from the ailing Harley to where Melissa was now cradling a shrieking, slimy-looking infant. The tiny little thing flailed in her arms, screaming her lungs out, even as she was shushed.

Something stirred in Joker. Though his mind was still concerned for Harley, he couldn’t force himself to tear his gaze away from the child...this... this was _his_ child. His daughter. This was someone created from his own flesh and blood, not by chemicals or any mental manipulations.

_This was their creation, they’d created this little creature together._

Oh, how it was such a strange, strange thing to be witnessing. For him to be hearing the loud, ear-splitting cry of this newborn, to be seeing the little thing as her aunt wrapped her in the clean towel, continuing in her attempts to soothe her.  

And that cry...that cry was loud enough to make a roof cave in.

How was he witnessing all of this, how was all of this actually happening?

Well, science could tell you how it happened, but that was a story for another day. That was not important. What was important was that he, the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, and King of Gotham...was now a father.

He didn’t know if his mind was able to process that, for it had gone fuzzy.

Melissa was looking up at the couple now, smiling from ear-to-ear despite her failure in getting the baby to quiet down.

“Congratulations, guys. She’s beautiful.”

_Was she?_

He couldn’t tell from here; but all he saw was red, wrinkly skin.

“Baby, Baby...” He jolted at Harley’s mumbling, looking down to see she was still laying down, not having moved from where she’d fallen. Her arms moved from where they’d previously been laying by her sides, outstretching, hands making grabbing motions, almost looking like claws.

“Give her to me...gimme.... I can hear her crying, Lissy, I wanna hold her. Lemme hold her...”

“Just a second, Leeny, I still have to clean her up.” Her sister chuckled, carefully laying the infant down onto the mattress. Her cries had softened a bit, but she hadn’t stopped wriggling, arms waving in the air. Melissa picked up one of the other hand towels she’d left folded on the bed and finished wiping off the last remnants of amniotic fluid and blood from her skin, which was now a flushed pink instead of the beet red it’d been prior.

“There we go...isn’t that better?” She said, gently patting the infant’s cheek with the towel. The baby gurgled in response, which prompted an impatient growl from Harley. Her hands remained outstretched still, grabbing for her daughter.

“Hang on, we’re almost done. We don’t want the cord trailing over there, do we?” Melissa sat the hand towel back into the small pile of messy towels that had accumulated over the birth. Humming, she turned, picking up a small black shoelace that she’d taken off her shoe an hour ago. She looked back up towards the new parents, towards the Joker.

“Hey Papa, you wanna take care of it?”

He blinked.

“What?”

“The cord. You wanna do the honors?”

“Aw pud, would you?” Harley gasped and grabbed his arm, tugging at it. “Please?”

Joker glanced down at her, then over at Melissa. He listened to the baby’s soft cooing for a moment.

_Would he do it?_

Did he really deserve to after being the one responsible for his own daughter’s almost-death nine months ago, after he’d spent day after day denying her and refusing to accept her? Now was not the time to be debating these questions, but he hadn’t planned on being present for this, let alone being asked to complete such a task as cutting off an umbilical cord.

“Puddin’... _pu_ -leaseeee...I wanna hold her...” Harley tugged at his arm again, whining softly. He looked back down at her again, sighed, and brushed her hand off, getting up from the bed. Taking his switchblade out, he flicked it open and padded over to the foot of the bed. Now that he was closer, he let himself observe the little thing, eyes going up and down her small, wiggly form. He didn’t know if he entirely agreed with Melissa’s statement of her “being beautiful”; her face was all wrinkled and scrunched up... but maybe that was because she was yawning.

He watched her tiny lips spread open, then shut, her features softening and eyes popping back open, revealing a pair of light, blue irises, that seemed to be staring back up at him.

Wonder...he could see wonder in those eyes, wonder and curiosity. The same look he’d seen in her mother’s eyes the minute she’d first laid eyes on him, he could see it now in their child. The same wonder, and she was barely a few minutes old.

_This was his. This thing was his._

_This was their creation._

He didn’t know how to feel.

“Here.” He snapped his head to the side, seeing Melissa had tied the shoe lace onto the cord. “Just cut right there _, carefully.”_

She’d put a lot of emphasis on that last word, “carefully”. Pfft, sure, she didn’t know how much he’d cut with this knife, how many people he’d cut with it. Stuff like this was a piece of a cake for him, he’d had plenty of practice being “careful” with blades.

_And by careful, that meant slowly dragging the blade further into someone’s cheek until they were crying._

“Er...huh, you got a light?” She nodded, reaching into her suitcase to pull out a lighter, and handed it to him. He ignited it, running the flame underneath the switchblade’s edge to cauterize it, snapping the lighter off the minute the blade began to a glow a light red. He could already feel Harley watching him, no doubt with great eagerness, as he cut the blade through the cord, severing it enough for it to fall off.

The switchblade went back into his coat, and he stepped back, watching as Melissa re-wrapped the baby back into the towel. The minute she stood up, Harley’s arms shot back up again, reaching out as her sister approached. A huge grin was on her face, despite the fact that she looked like death.

“Mine, mine!” She sounded like a greedy toddler, eagerly snatching her daughter out of Melissa’s arms. She fell back onto the pillows, pressing the baby close to her body, petting the wispy, damp peach fuzz that made up her hair.

“Baby...my baby...” Harley started cooing, continuing to pet and cuddle the tiny infant. “Hi there, hi...hi, you’re my baby, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, and I’m your Momma! Yes, I am, and I love you so much! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long...”

She kept hugging, petting, talking to the girl like she could understand her. It bewildered Joker, standing here and watching his queen act like this. He couldn’t say he liked this new mushy side all too much, and he couldn’t guarantee that he’d get used to it.

It was just so...odd.

Not just the mushy talk, but the fact that she was holding a baby. It almost looked unnatural, for Harley Quinn, the Clown Queen and merry murderess herself to be cradling and cooing at a small child like this.

“Hey...puddin’?”

She’d stopped cooing, she was talking to him now. He didn’t respond, just looked, saw her looking inquisitively at him.

“You...wanna come see her?”

_But he already had seen her, just a minute ago._

_Forget it J, she’s not going to take no for an answer. She rarely does._

So, he went back to her side, only standing next to the bed this time. Harley beamed up at him, holding the baby up for him to see, even though her arms were weak and trembling.

“Just look at her, isn’t she pretty?” she gushed, gaining no visible reaction from him. The only thing he did do was squint, silently observing the infant as she gurgled, her tiny hands pawing the air.   _Such a tiny little thing...tiny and helpless..._

 “She’s...so small...” He didn’t know why that had been the first thing to come out of his mouth, those had been thoughts he hadn’t meant to say out loud. Harley harshly laughed, lowering the baby back onto her lap.

“Really? I would’ve thought otherwise.”  She countered. “With how much effort it took, I could’a sworn I was pushin’ out a ten-pound watermelon.”

She went back to looking down at the baby, smiling widely at her.

“But you’re a tiny melon, aintcha?” she chirped, grabbing onto her wiggling arms. “You’re just a tiny little thing, how come you were givin’ Mama so much trouble? Huh?”

The only response the baby gave was a soft coo, causing her mother to laugh and kiss both her hands, rubbing them against her own cheeks. Joker continued watching in absolute amazement; no, his mind was doing a shit job of processing this.None of this felt like it was really happening.

She’d only been a mother for about six minutes and she was already a natural. It was like it had just come naturally, maybe there really was some truth about the bullshit myth talking about how having a baby always brought out the maternal instinct in a woman.

He chuckled within himself. His Harley, a mother. Him, a father.

This was quite the sight to behold. A sight that he knew many people might find hilarious.

_Many people aside from Bats, of course._

No no, that was a matter for another time. The last few hours had been hours from hell, and it was over, he could worry over shit like that another day.

Slowly, he sat on the bed, allowing a grin to place itself on his face as he kept a focus on the baby. He was impressed; in all the time he’d been looking at her, she hadn’t cried at all. The same wonder and curiosity was in her eyes, even as she looked between both strange people looking down at her. It was kind of funny, perhaps she hadn’t been expecting these strange-looking people to be her parents.

He did wonder what else could possibly be going through her mind.

By now, Melissa had left the room; he’d heard her briefly mention something about to going to clean up, but he hadn’t been paying attention. The family of three were the only ones currently in this room, and oddly enough...everything felt peaceful.

_Is this what could have been, a long, long time ago?_

More gurgling came from the baby, who still stared up at her parents with curious wonder. Her main focus seemed to be fixated on her father however, and Harley had taken notice as well as he had. She giggled, looking over at the Joker.

“She knows you.” He scoffed at this, rolling his eyes.

“Harls, please—”

“No, look! She knows you’re her papa, she just can’t stop lookin’ at ya.” Harley pressed further, looking back to the infant. Sure enough, her eyes remained focused towards her father, as if to further prove Harley’s point.

“Look at that, she loves you already. Isn’t that sweet?”

“That’s bullshit, Harls. She’s just staring at me, that doesn’t mean she loves me.” Joker pointed out, huffing as he lifted both legs onto the bed. “It doesn’t mean that she knows who I am, either.”

“No, she does.”  She disagreed, pulling the baby back in her arms, as she’d begun to cry. “She knows you, Mistah J. I didn’t spend a good amount of time tellin’ her about ya for her to _not_ know.”

The crying picked up, prompting a shush out of Harley as she gently started bouncing the newborn.

“Hey, hush now. What’s wrong? Are ya hungry?” she asked. “Is that it?”

She pushed her knees back up, allowing the baby to rest on them while she pushed her shirt up. Reaching back, she managed to unclip her bra and pressed the baby close to her chest, allowing her to nuzzle around for a few minutes until she began nursing. Harley kept one hand balanced on the back of her head, rubbing the other on her back. A good minute passed before Harley realized Joker was staring, and she looked up at him, taking in the expression on his face.

It wasn’t a smile, or a grin; he just looked...conflicted.

“What are you starin’ at?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. He pursed his lips together, shrugging.

“Dunno. I’m still trying to process it, whatever it is.” he said, scooting a bit closer to Harley. She raised at her other eyebrow at him, before also shrugging, and moved her attention back to the baby. She’d seemed to have finished eating, so Harley pulled her back, and let her shirt fall back down. The room went quiet, as she went back to cuddling the infant, cooing to her; all while Joker sat next to her and watched with his own great curiosity.

“So...” He spoke, silently, enough to gain Harley’s attention. “This is what being a parent is like?”

“Huh...I guess.” The baby had grabbed onto Harley’s finger with both hands, tugging and grunting. “Uh...how’s it makin’ you feel?”

She had to ask; their unfinished conversation in the asylum still had many questions with it, many questions that had not yet been answered. He’d seemed very eager to have her back, had mentioned something about being okay with having the baby around...but nothing he emoted now showed any of that. Harley knew as well as his henchmen, if not better, that it was either a good thing or a bad thing when the Joker went quiet; and in most cases, it was never a good thing.

“Hm...” He hummed, resting his head against the wall, hands now folded in his lap. “Don’t know yet.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely bad. But it wasn’t good either.

She nodded, slowly, and looked away from him, only to look back up at again at his question.

“How about you?”

“Oh...um...weird. Huh, yeah. It feels weird.”

She went back to rocking the baby, smiling brightly at her.

“But ya know...I’ve been waitin’ so long to hold her...and I almost never did.” she mused.  “Yeah, so maybe it does feel weird...but it also feels _incredible_.”

Incredible?

He wondered what that must feel like. It was frustrating, because he felt like he should be happy, or hell, angry right now; he wanted to feel some kind of emotion, not the blankness, or the confusion, he felt instead. Harley’s happiness was practically radiating off her, she’d been wanting this; _yearning_ for this for so long, perhaps longer than he’d ever known.

And meanwhile, he couldn’t even properly assess his own emotions.

“Err...did you...did you, uh, ever pick a name out for her?” he questioned, trying to at least _sound_ invested. Though he _was_ curious, she’d not made mention of any name of any sort for the baby in the short time that they’d been reunited, then again, they’d only been reunited since last night. It wasn’t like they’d had the time to chat what with having to avoid being shot up, arrested, and/or thrown back into Arkham by Batman or the GCPD.

Harley did seem delighted he’d asked, however. She pondered his question briefly, pressing her mouth into a tight line.

“Kinda...” She shifted on the bed, slipping down onto one of the pillows. “I mean I...nah, nah, not really...”

He had to laugh at this, turning onto his side to look down at her.

“Really? Nine months, Harls, you had nine months to decide.” She scowled as he cackled. “And you say I take too long, I truly think you’re mistaken.”

“If I am, it’s your fault.” Harley deflected. “You’re the one who kept tellin’ me a name had to mean somethin’—you know, back in Arkham? Our first session?”

“How could I forget?” He smiled at the memory, recalling the look on her face when she’d stepped into the room. How she’d asked so many questions, trying to get a “real” name out of him, asking him how it related to what he did. That had only been the first of many times he’d imparted his own wisdom to her.

“Yeah, I started talkin’ to you about names and stuff like that.” She paused, long enough to wince, and looked back over at him. “I remember, puddin’, I remember how you said a name is what makes a person, how it has to be something people would fear. I remembered all of that, so I wanted to find a name like that for the baby.”

“And did you?”

 “I... I don’t know, I mean there was one name that stood out to me...” She winced again, inhaling sharply. “I dunno...and geez pud, you’ve always been better at names than me, you’re the one who got Harley Quinn outta Harleen Quinzel, y’know.”

“Well, I do consider myself an expert in the field.” Joker chuckled, turning back onto his back in order to sit up. “But give yourself some credit where it’s due, you do a fantastic job with animal names.”

“Oh, great...”

“No, but really;” He swung his legs off the bed, standing up. “Tell me; what’s the name? The one that was standing out to you, I’m curious.”

“Um...Lilith.” Harley said, shifting once again. “It means ‘of the night’. The website I found it on said it was the name of some demonic goddess in Jewish mythology, one I apparently missed out on hearing as a kid.”  

Joker said nothing to this straight away, only leaning against the wall. He looked upwards, his mouth was moving despite no words coming out. He seemed to be in contemplation of the name...that was good, that was definitely good, wasn’t it? It had to be, he’d cared enough to break her out, had cared enough to stay with her through the whole delivery. Surely, he cared enough to help her decide on a name.

He continued as Harley watched on. She hoped he’d decide soon, she was starting to feel sick again.

The bathroom door opened, and Melissa walked out, heading back to her suitcase to fiddle around with something. By this time, Joker had stopped his murmuring and was looking down again, back at Harley and the baby.

“...I like it.” He decided, finally. “I think...I think it’ll do just fine.”

Harley lit up, looking back down at the cooing baby in her arms.

“You hear that, sweetie? Daddy liked the name Momma picked out for ya!” she grinned, enough to earn attention from Melissa, who looked on at the small family with a smile. “Looks like you got a name now, huh? How do you like it?”

Joker had turned his back, rolling his eyes at hearing Harley babble onto their daughter. It still amazed him how she could just talk to her like she understood everything she was saying...then again... that wasn’t really a shock considering how she talked to animals. He should’ve expected it.

It was only when she stopped talking, abruptly, was when he started to become concerned. Which, was now.

He turned back around at the same time baby Lilith fell from her mother’s embrace, hitting the mattress with a soft cry. His eyes widened, blood going cold, at the sight of Harley’s body violently convulsing on the bed, her breath in and out at an alarmingly-fast pace.

“Harley!” It didn’t take him any time at all to practically jump onto the bed, ready to completely pull her up, shake her out of her stupor. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good. She’d completely paled over, her skin cold, and pupils huge.

“Don’t move her!”  His arms recoiled back at the sound of Melissa snapping at him, and he looked to see her propping the suitcase up underneath Harley’s feet. She’d jumped into action quick, running over next to him to scoop the crying baby up from where she’d fallen, hastily shoving her into her father’s surprised arms before returning to attend to her sister. Joker could only watch in a furious worry, stumbling back, almost entirely into the wall, while Lilith cried and squirmed in his hold.

_What was happening? Everything was so fine just a minute ago, this wasn’t supposed to happen! Not again!_

Every voice screamed at him, clouded any coherent train thought, the longer he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Melissa was doing a lot of things, things he couldn’t pay enough attention to. She was saying some things to Harley, covering her with the blanket, readjusting the pillows underneath her head. She rushed back to the foot of the bed, allowing Joker enough time to see that Harley had stopped convulsing, her body having gone disturbingly still. Her eyes almost looked sealed shut, lips looking slightly parted. Her breath did sound like it was slowing down, and her chest was slowly but surely rising up and down.

So, she was alive...thank fuck for that. What had just happened?

Realizing Lilith was slipping from his grasp, Joker shifted her back up against the crook of his right arm and walked over to Melissa, who was pre-occupied with checking under the sheet still covering Harley’s legs.

“ _What_ is going on?” he demanded, struggling to keep the wiggling baby from slipping even further. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s lost too much blood, it sent her body into shock.” Melissa moved one hand away from the sheets to retrieve another towel from her suitcase, wadding it up into a ball. “I’ve seen it happen far too often.”

Her face creased as she pressed the towel into place, biting down on her lower lip.

“This is why I was hoping she wouldn’t tear, she’s already lost too much blood as is...hell, she’s still bleeding now...” she said. “I’m gonna try my best to stop the bleeding—”

“No, you aren’t going to _try,_ you’re going to stop it.” He snapped, causing Melissa to silence, having to raise his tone as the baby hadn’t yet calmed down from her crying fit.  “Remember why I’ve kept you around, Mel. You’re of no use to me if you don’t stop this.”

His tone had transitioned to a low growl, signifying that he was dead serious.  Swallowing hard, Melissa nodded grimly, looking away.

“I... if I had a, um, curette, I could perform a D&C...” she spoke slowly, keeping her hands secured beneath the sheet. “It could temporarily stop the bleeding, but there’s no guarantee...”

“We’ve got a whole stash of medical supplies in the basement of this place, getting you one of those shouldn’t be a problem.” Joker cut her off, glancing down at Lilith. He grit down on his grill, harshly shushing her.  She hadn’t stopped crying since her mother had gone unconscious, and he wasn’t having much luck in getting her to be quiet.

_She knows I’m her father, huh? Bullshit._

She wanted to be back with her mother, she didn’t want this strange man holding her. These were the same arms, the same hands, that had wielded the cane that had almost resulted in her death, so he couldn’t really blame her for wanting out of them.

“If it’s not a problem, then great, because it’s really our only other option at this rate.” Melissa temporarily moved one blood-covered hand out, picking up another towel. “Oh, and you might want to try rocking her.”

He was about to ask what she meant until he realized she was talking about the baby. Grumbling, he attempted to do as she said, which to his surprise, seemed to quell the infant. She went quiet, aside from tiny sniffles.

So far, this parenting thing wasn’t proving to be any fun. Not yet, anyways.

“I’ll uh...I’ll go tell Frost to get the stuff...you need...” He trailed off, stepping back. Now that Lilith had quieted down, he attempted to lay her back down on the bed next to Harley, only to receive a loud cry, which caused him to pull her back up, staring down in confusion at her.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to get away with that.” Melissa cracked a smile and shook her head, turning her focus back to Harley. “I can’t be keeping an eye on her anyways, you’re going to need to keep her with you for at least a couple of hours.”

_Protest._

He almost did, wanted to, but Melissa had a point. She was already up to her wrists in blood, and as soon as she had that curette in her possession, she’d be up to her elbows. There was no way she’d be able to tend to both Harley and Lilith at the same time.

_Protest._

His mind told him to, but he ignored it. Re-securing Lilith back into his hold, he moved to leave the room, not before allowing himself one more glance at Harley. She was still unconscious, laying on the bed and looking as pale as a ghost. Barely, just barely, he could hear her breathing...so quick, so frighteningly quick.

Melissa better hope nothing went wrong during that procedure, else she’d be finding herself at the short end of a gun’s barrel.

* * *

 

The sun brightly shone in the living room, casting rays across it as Joker stepped out from the bedroom. He shut the door with his free arm, back turned still, Lilith cooing in his arms. He stayed there for a moment, hand pressed against the wood.

_...she would be okay. She was Harley Quinn, she’d come back from worse. She was going to be okay. For her to be defeated like this would just be...ridiculous._

She would not be defeated. She’d come back from this, perkier and crazier than ever.

“J?” He barely turned at hearing Frost’s voice, having forgotten the other man had been in the room, though he was shocked he was still here, especially with having to listen to all the lovely sounds travelling through the walls.

“...yeah?”

“Is... Ms. Quinn doing alright?” Ah, good old concern. And it was genuine too, any prior right-hand man he’d had been excellent at faking it, just to stay on his good side. This was why he’d kept Frost around for so long.

It did take Joker a minute to respond, Frost even having to repeat himself a second time. Finally, he looked up, back at him.

“She’s...going to be fine...” _Lying to yourself again, J? God, you’re pathetic._ “Look uh, Johnny, you remember where we keep the medical supplies in this place, right?”

“Yeah, the basement, right?”

“Right. Great, because the doc needs some.” He fully turned around, moving to a chair, which he seated himself in. “A curette, probably some medication. Go get those for her.”

“Sure thing.” Frost nodded and started to leave. He stopped upon opening the door and looked back. “Oh...yeah, boss? Congrats.”

It was a quick and curt congratulations, because he had already left before Joker had a chance to say anything to him. He looked over just in time to see the door shutting, and closed his eyes, exhaling heavily.

_This...this was all so strange...this wasn’t supposed to happen._

_This wasn’t ever supposed to happen._

_None of this...he’d anticipated none of this when he’d gone to rescue her.  He’d not anticipated her giving birth, and he’d certainly not anticipated her now bleeding out._

Fuck, sometimes he wished his brain was able to process things better and not just...shut itself off like this. He couldn’t think straight now, he’d thought it’d be better after having Harley back, but it’d just gotten worse. The imagery of her tied up and screaming was out of his head, but now all he could see was her laying there in bed, resembling nothing less than a corpse.

_Why...why did it have to be so...painful to care?_

If he didn’t know any better, he’d close himself off again, but he knew he couldn’t. It was too late for that now.

Tiny noises led him into opening his eyes back, shooting them down to Lilith, who was grunting and squirming against his stomach. He glared, feeling a small rage begin to burn through his heart. Gradually, he slipped the baby from his arm, tightly gathering her into both his hands, lifting her up until she was face to face with him. She continued squirming, her grunts increasing as her father’s grip increased. His eyes glazed over in fury the more he watched her squirm, the more he listened to the noises she was making.

“You...” he growled, arms shaking. “This is all your fault...”

_It was. It was all her fault; her mother was heavily bleeding out because of her, possibly dying because of her. It was her fault._

His whole face contorted in anger, fingers pressing hard against the baby’s body. She kept squirming, kept whimpering.

_Wasn’t supposed to happen. Didn’t want this. Didn’t want you. Your fault, your fault, your fault--_

He was gripping tight enough, that Lilith’s small noises had developed into a loud squall.  This brought him out of his rage, feeling a harsh pang in his chest. Her squalls kept on, even as he lowered her, his grip loosening, laying her down on his knees. His hands continued to shake, as he cautiously lifted them, staring in a dumbfounded manner.

_No..._

_No._

He wasn’t going to do this. He couldn’t.

Maybe it was Lilith’s fault, but he knew he held the blame too. Lilith only existed because of him, after all.

“Hey...” He picked her back up, laying her against his chest. “Hey, stop that. Don’t do that.”

Her tiny body was quivering as the loud squalls quieted down into whimpers, he could feel it. God, she really was so tiny...it would have been so easy to hurt her. That was...not a comforting fact. If he had in fact, done something, and Harley got better...she’d skin him alive, and not just metaphorically.

With heavy uncertainty, he pressed his hand on her back, slowly rubbing it.  He’d seen people do this on television shows, not that he watched these types of shows, but he’d caught glimpses of them, due to sometimes coming home at 2 AM to find Harley awake and seated in the living room, watching some bad Lifetime channel movie while she emptied out a whole carton of chocolate pudding. That was a routine he fully expected to continue once they got back home.

Especially now with a baby around, things were bound to change, but at least they weren’t strangers to staying up late.

The whimpers had stopped, meaning that he was doing _something_ right. He heard the door opening and slamming shut, heard Frost’s footsteps go by as he ran across to the bedroom, presumably with the needed supplies in hand. He didn’t bother looking up or acknowledging this, only continued rubbing Lilith’s back, and once she’d gone completely quiet, lay her back down in his lap.

Those eyes...wide and curious...he couldn’t get over how curious they looked. You couldn’t even tell she’d been crying a minute ago, it was almost scary how calm she was now. It looked as if she were trying to figure Joker out...like why had he been ready to crush her one minute, but had started to soothe her the next?

So young, and already so eager.

It made him smile.

“Don’t think too much on it, kid.” He couldn’t believe he was talking to her, but she seemed to be paying attention, so he continued.  “Even I don’t know how things work up there most of the time... shit, I don’t think your mother does either. I’ll give her points for trying, as long ago as that was...”

Lilith cooed, her little head wobbling to the side. Joker was quick to set it back up, keeping one hand propped underneath it.

“No, no, I’m sure she told you enough about that.” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll bet she’s told you a lot, huh? She probably did, she loves talking. Sometimes, I can’t get her to shut up.”

Another coo from Lilith, who by now had taken noticed of her father’s thumb and seized it, pulling it into her mouth. He almost jerked it back, alarmed, but instead did nothing, observing the little girl as she continued to gum it to her best extent, but her eyes had not left him. They remained looking up at him, even as she was sucking at his thumb.

This made his smile even bigger.

_Maybe Harley hadn’t been bullshitting him. Maybe she really did know who he was._

He pulled his thumb loose, lifting her up, this time, until their foreheads touched, and he was grinning.

“You know, what Lily?” he purred, the baby grunting. “I think you’re going to be fun, after all...”

* * *

 

The next few days passed by, even if it felt like time wasn’t moving by at all.

Harley been out of commission, for the most part. She’d woken up a few times, the first time being a whole day after she’d first passed out, but she’d only stayed up long enough to feed Lilith, and herself, before going back to sleep. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be losing anymore blood, as the D&C procedure had seemed to have taken care of most of the heavy bleeding, but regardless of this, she remained bedbound, primarily by Melissa’s orders, and especially by Joker’s orders.

When she was asleep, the task of tending to the baby had fallen to Melissa. She’d handled giving her a bath, changing her diaper, putting her to sleep. She’d gone out the morning after she was born and had come back with all the supplies needed to take care of Lilith, including formula in the event that Harley might be asleep during her meal times, and a few baby onesies so she wouldn’t have to keep wearing the same dirty towel she’d been wrapped in for the first few hours of her life.

Suffice it to say that it’d been an interesting few days, having to adjust to having a baby around. By now, Joker had hoped they’d be back in Gotham City, at the penthouse, but it was evident they weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon, nor did he want to. Not until Harley was strong enough to get out of bed, even if she kept insisting she was whenever she was awake, he knew she wasn’t. Not with how much she kept sleeping, it would be at least a whole week before they’d be back, maybe two.

He didn’t want her setting a foot outside of that room until she didn’t look like death anymore.

In the meantime, he’d turned his attention towards other things. His arrested henchmen had managed to free themselves, with the help of some officers who just so happened to be on Joker’s payroll. When they’d arrived at the hotel, he’d assigned them to head back into the city, to Harley’s apartment above the Blue Bell Diner, in order to retrieve her things there.

Of course, by her things, he meant the baby’s thing, which mainly included her crib, toys, and clothes, some of the décor as well. He’d had these things taken to the penthouse, where the rest of the guys and some of the girls from the club were converting one of the spare rooms into a nursery. Joker hadn’t told Harley about this, she did love surprises and after all the crap she’d been through lately, she deserved a surprise that wouldn’t result in blood.

Speaking of the guys and girls, some of them had dropped by in the few days that had passed, dropping off their congratulations and their gifts. The guys were quick about it and usually left after a couple of minutes, in order to get back to work, but the girls had stayed longer, oohing and awing over Lilith, even helping out with her.

 In fact, she’d been getting so much attention from everyone, that Joker had found himself barely interacting with her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but ever since their little interaction before, he’d had a lot to think about, a lot to ponder. By now, it was cemented that they were keeping the baby, that he was okay with it, and he’d accepted it. But there was so much more on his mind than that factor, and so much that needed to be talked about.

Unfortunately, Harley was never awake long enough for such a conversation to take place.

So, he’d spent a lot of time outside the bedroom, mulling over his thoughts, pacing, or distracting himself with some kind of task, any old task.

It was actually what he was doing right now, as it was 5:30 in the evening, clouds gathered in the sky and the room dark. Aside from the few men surrounding the outside of the place to keep an eye on things, the only other people in the building were Melissa, Harley, the Joker, and Lilith. Most of the guys were back in the city, and Melissa was in the bedroom tending to Lilith while Harley was in the shower. It was the first time she’d really been up since giving birth, and she’d had to fight Melissa on letting her out of bed, stating she was sick of smelling like “blood and shit”.

So, it was pretty much quiet, though you could faintly hear the running water through the thin walls.

As for the Joker, he was currently seated on the sofa, going over a chart of the club’s assets. Things had really fallen behind the long nine months he’d been mentally absent, and things were not looking too hot financially. He had some clients he’d have to be paying a visit to soon if he wanted this chart to looking any better, a whole list of said-client next to him, as he tried to map out who owed him what.

Melissa stepped out of the bedroom door, sighing tiredly as she sat a half-empty baby bottle down on the coffee table, next to where Joker’s feet were propped. He looked up briefly, before looking back down at the name list, marking a name off on it.

“Sounded awful quiet in there...” he remarked, as Melissa retrieved her coat from where it was hanging on a chair. She shrugged it on, chuckling softly.

“Hah, well, that might have something to do with Lily.”  she said, scooping her purse up as well.  “She wasn’t even halfway done with her bottle before she started nodding off. Poor kid couldn’t even keep her eyes open.”

“Hm.” Joker circled off another name, absent-mindedly rocking his feet. “She’s asleep then?”

“Yup, since about...oh, I think five minutes ago.”  She fumbled through her purse, pulling her keys out. “I figured since she is, I’d take the chance to slip out and bring back some supper. How’s Chinese sound?”

“Sure. Sounds fantastic...” He sat his pen aside, squinting at the chart. Keys in hand, Melissa zipped her purse up and headed towards the door.

“I’ll be back in a few, if Lily wakes up, just give her the rest of her bottle. She still might be hungry.” She called, stepping out. Almost as instantly as the door shut, Joker was interrupted from his work by the very sound that had woken him up the last couple of nights. He sighed, setting both the chart and his pen back onto the couch, and pushed himself off the couch.

Bottle in hand, he went to the bedroom, where Harley’s remained empty, and her voice could be heard coming from the bathroom, singing some off-tune version of “Lollipop” as the shower water was shut off. Lilith lay alone, and presumably-hungry on the bed, crying and kicking. He approached, shushing her as he scooped her up.

“Hey hey, don’t do that...” he scolded, lightly bouncing her. He shoved the bottle towards her mouth, and she scrunched her face up, turning her head away. Joker fought a couple of more times to get her to eat, until he gave up and tossed the bottle onto the bed, propping the infant up against his shoulder. Her crying went on, soft, not loud, and he continued bouncing her, patting her back.

He had to admit, it did feel quite foreign to be doing such a thing as this...such a normal thing, holding and soothing a baby. The hands that had not only threatened to end her life, but had ended so many other lives, were holding her with such care and such gentleness, that he wasn’t even sure if they were his anymore.

This was just _hilarious,_ he had enemies who would no doubt be doubling over in laughter at a sight like this.

The bathroom light flicked off as the door opened. Harley was humming as she exited, drying off the ends of her hair before crumpling up the towel and chucking it onto a chair. After having been dressed in the same t-shirt for days, one that was covered in dried blood and piss stains, it was a relief to have changed into a nicer, cleaner pair of pajamas; especially one that was her own pair. It was one of the things Joker had had retrieved from their penthouse for her while she was out of it, alongside some of her other clothing. Not the ugly stuff Ivy had bought for her, no, her actual clothing.

And she couldn’t have been happier.

She’d lit up like a Christmas tree when she’d dug into the box and picked up one of her favorite pairs of pajamas; a light pink top and bottom, with kitty cats printed all over them. This was the pair she was wearing now as she turned to look at herself in the dusty old mirror, continuing to hum, and attempted to pin her wet hair up into space buns, rather sloppy space buns at that.

She overheard small grunts, then noticed the sight of Lilith in the mirror, cradled in her father’s arms. Joker’s back was turned, and he hadn’t quite noticed Harley yet; in fact, all his attention seemed to be on Lilith.

It made her heart bubble up with joy, a smile spreading over her features.

Stiffly walking back over (stiffly, only because she was still recovering), she plopped down on the bed next to J, wrapping her arms around him all while sighing happily, resting her head against his back. She felt his body jolt, startled, but he didn’t say anything just yet.

Harley propped her chin on his shoulder, peering down at baby Lily. Aside from her occasional late-night cries, she’d been a very well-behaved baby. At least, from what Melissa had said, but Harley could see it now. She looked so calm, and not at all uncomfortable, being held by Joker.

“Look at her, puddin’...” she chirped softly, moving one hand over to tweak the girl’s cheek. “Look at how comfortable she is with ya, she’s so happy!”

Joker pulled Lilith back from his shoulder, looking over her features.

“That doesn’t look happy to me.” he said flatly, laying her back down.

“But she’s calm!” Harley persisted, scooting over next to him with her hands still holding onto him. “Look at how calm she is, shouldn’t that say _something_ to you?”

She didn’t get a reply to this, and she felt him slip out of her grasp, looking to see he was getting up from the bed. She bit her lip, looking back to Lily.

_He doesn’t want her, Harley._

_Shut up._

The one good thing about being out cold had been Harleen’s lack of nagging, that wasn’t to say she’d had her fair share of bothering Harley every now and then. It hadn’t been as often since she was back with Joker, thank goodness for that. But that didn’t change anything about what she was being naggy about, what she was prattling on about.

It was always about Lily.

Harley kept trying to convince herself, convince Harleen, that everything was all well and good now, and that they’d be getting to go home together as a whole family. But...her mind kept going back to the conversation they’d had Arkham. He’d said he’d tell her everything, why he’d waited so long to take her back...there was a good chance her mind wouldn’t be at ease until he told her.

She just had to know.

And he seemed to be reading her thoughts, because he was clearing his throat, and coming back over to the bed, after having paced around for a couple of minutes. She looked up, over at him, as he pulled both hands behind his back.

“Harls...I think, since you’re awake...” he started. “I think it’s time we talked...you wanna talk?” 

 Harley picked up Lilith and the bottle, which she seemed to be receiving better this time. She was silent, only nodding, which prompted him into continuing.

“Those...those nine months, before now...looking back, I realize that I may have overreacted...” He started his pacing up again. “In fact, I may have overreacted...just a bit too much.”

“I think we’ve had this conversation already, pud...”

“We have, yes. You’re not wrong.”  He stopped walking, arms unfolding. “But you see, when we had that conversation, I hadn’t had quite enough time to truly think about this whole situation. Since then, I’ve had time...oh so much time, and so much was revealed to me...”

“Revealed? What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Harley squinted in confusion at him as he sat back down, shifting Lilith up as her fussing indicated she’d finished with the bottle since the start of her parent’s conversation.

“I... can’t say. Fuck, at this point I’m not even sure if half of what I saw was real or not...” Joker combed his fingers through his hair, huffing. “But—yeah, basically, I’m pretty sure I ended up getting back a few memories while you were gone. Memories that made me realize why I was so against this whole parenting thing.”

This revelation made Harley’s eyes go wide, but he held up his hands before she could speak, causing her mouth to snap shut and fall into a whine.

“Wait, wait. No, like I said, I don’t even know how many of those were real.” he said. “But...it made me realize some things about myself, Harls. It made me realize that I was lying to myself, the whole damn time. You know, when it came to a kid not fitting in with our lifestyle?”

Voice trailing, he shut his eyes, contemplating what to say next. _No, no—don’t seize up now. Don’t seize up._

“I figured...” He hummed, his eyes popping back open. “I figured that...that it was a bullshit excuse. Bats has plenty of brats of his own running around, why couldn’t I have the same thing? Why couldn’t I let myself be amused by the thought of...my own offspring? Then...those dreams started happening.”

Even Lilith wasn’t making much noises anymore, as if she too, was as closely listening to her father’s words as Harley was. She had to say she was intrigued; Joker had never been this open before, not about dreams, not about things like memories. He’d always brushed her off whenever she’d asked...during the therapy sessions, during their times driving around the city, in bed.

 _“I don’t have a past,”_ he’d say. _“Simply put, Harley—if I had one, I’d want it to be multiple choice.”_

But he wasn’t saying that now, was he?

“What...what were in the dreams, Mistah J?”

“Hard to say...it’s all foggy now...” His face scrunched up at remembering, and he leaned back on the bed, palms resting on the mattress. “I... vaguely remember a man and woman, yelling at each other...I remember the man, kicking me in the ribs...I remember stabbing the woman...”

This was starting to sound familiar. He’d told her a variation of this story a long time ago in one of their sessions. But, she chose not to interrupt him. She knew not to interrupt him when he was like this, voicing a train of thoughts out loud. One off-word could scramble it all up.

“The thing is though, Harls, all these dreams...memories, whatever...” He went on, Harley listening on intently. “They all had something in common...it was always about parents. And I think, Harley, that it was these things in my dreams that held my reasons for not accepting Lilith.”

“...which are?” Lilith was squirming, having apparently lost interest in the conversation by now and was more concerned with trying to get a burp out, so Harley lifted her up and started patting her back, keeping her eyes locked on Joker. This conversation was going somewhere, her attention wasn’t about to go anywhere else.

But he didn’t seem like he wanted to continue it. He didn’t seem like he wanted to state the reasons he was talking about, and grew very quiet, turning away from her.

_What was it...what was it that he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say?_

She didn’t know, but she wanted to know. Prodding wouldn’t help, when it came to stuff like this...it was better to just let it be stated naturally. Especially with him, prodding him had never ended very well in the past.

“...I was...” Finally, he spoke, right at the same time Lilith let out a tiny belch, and Harley lowered back into her lap. “I was...scared, Harley. I was terrified. In those memories...nothing associated with the thought of being parent was good...and I think, when it comes down to it...”

_Him...Joker...admitting he was scared?_

This was not the answer she’d expected to hear.

“You...scared?” she had to ask, it even sounded weird as she asked.

“I know. It’s hilarious isn’t it?” He said over a chuckle, picking at the hem of the bedsheets. “I’m surprised you aren’t rolling over in laughter at this...like c’mon, Harls, it’s sad. Out of all the things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen...the one thing that terrifies me, is her...”

He gestured towards Lilith, who’d turned her attention to staring at the cats on her mother’s pajamas.

“You know the things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen...” Cracking his neck, he grunted, shifting up a little bit more on the bed. “The things I’ve had done to me...but this? This little...human...no, she is the thing that scares me the most.”

His gaze was locked onto her now; her being Lilith, and Harley could see what he meant. She could somewhat see the tiny bit of fear flashing over his eyes, a fear she’d seen a long, long time ago, two years to be exact...their time on the road, when she’d pulled the gun on him.

When she’d uttered those words, daring him to admit that her heart scared him...this was perhaps, the first time, he’d ever came close to acknowledging such feelings. Although, it bewildered her to hear such humbling things come from his mouth, this was not what she’d expected, not at all. At the same time, it did make her happy to hear those words...to hear a legit reason, and no excuses this time.

And it wasn’t like that half-assed response he’d given her back in the alley, this one seemed to possess more earnest.

 “I’m glad to hear you say that...” she concurred, scooting back up against the bed’s headboard. Tucking Lilith close, Harley started to softly rock her, feeling somewhat solemn. “If it makes you feel any better, she scares me a little bit too.”

“No, she doesn’t. Don’t say things just to make me feel like less of an asshole, Harley.” She jolted at the loud abruptness of his voice, noting that his fists were clenching. “You’ve been all over her before she was even born, you were ready to kill me the very second I threatened to harm her.”

He snapped her head back at her, looking at her with a very serious, very dark expression.

“You pledged your loyalty...to me...”

“Puddin’...”

“Stop.” He warned, standing up slowly. And she did. She snapped her mouth shut, only chewing on her lower lip. The same expression remained, as he moved to stand next to her, if only growing darker with each step. “You pledged your loyalty to _me,_ and _me_ only...so I want to make one thing clear with you. And I wanna make it _crystal_ clear, so listen to what I say now...”

Harley’s eyes darted to his switchblade, which he was now holding in his hand. The blade was out, and before she could even make a sound, felt it pressed on her cheek. It felt dangerously close to drawing blood, and he lightly dragged it across her pale flesh, stopping at her lips. They closed, the tip of the blade resting on them.

“I will accept this child, I will make an... ah... an _attempt_ , to parent her, to my best extent...despite my apparent fear of her.” He pressed the blade further, Harley’s breath hitching. It did not hitch out of fear, however; instead out of eagerness. Lilith didn’t seem to share in her excitement, having drifted off to sleep within a couple of minutes of being rocked.

“But, I will only do this...if I know your loyalty will remain to me, and only me.” He directed, the darkness, the utter crispness of his tone, was enough to make Harley shiver. There was a calmness to it, but also strong forcefulness, all at the very same time. “That doesn’t mean...that you can’t, uh, have _some_ loyalty for her. That doesn’t mean you can’t love her, because I know there’s no stopping you there...all I ask...”

He stopped, long enough to move his eyes up to hers. They were focused, intense...locking right onto his. The blade was practically pricking at the skin on Harley’s lip, still not enough to draw blood, but getting close enough to do so.

“All I ask, Harley, is that you remember. Remember what you vowed.” He dragged the blade down a bit, her lips parting. It split the center of her lower lip, causing a tiny trickle of blood to sprout out. “Simply...give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Quick as could be, he swiped the blade back, causing Harley’s eyes to snap shut, a quiet moan escaping from between her now-bleeding lips. Joker covered her mouth with one hand, kneeling close to her face, and grabbed the back of her head with his other hand, pressing their foreheads together.

“You know how this goes...surrender...desire...you know the whole deal by now.” He whispered, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “Tell me what you want, Harley Quinn. Do you want our child?”

He slid his hand down, allowing her to speak. First, she released the breath that had been building up in her throat, body shuddering.  

“More than anything, Mistah J.”

“What about me? What do you want from me?”

“To accept our baby and raise her with me.” She was brightening, the corners of her mouth stretching into a slightly bloody smile.  “It’s all I’ve ever wanted these whole nine months, all I ever wanted from you.”

“Then you know what to say, honey...” His finger was on her lips, tracing over the blood, over the curves of her smile. “Remember...remember your vow and say the magic word. Say it...”

“...Please.”

His finger stopped it’s travelling, settling on her lower lip, dragging itself down to her chin. He returned her smile as more fingers curled around her chin, and their lips met, engaging in a sensual, soft...and bloody, kiss. When they parted, their shared gaze went down to their daughter, who whimpered in her sleep, head turning to rest on the crook of her mother’s elbow.

“Our little princess...” Harley murmured, lifting the baby long enough to plant a kiss on her, which left a red imprint on the infant’s cheek. “Our beautiful, perfect little princess...oh puddin’, I love her so much.”

His arm wrapped itself around Harley, pulling her to him as he seated himself on the edge of the bed. He still couldn’t say if he was feeling the same joy she was right now, but he was starting to feel something. The same-something he’d felt those few days ago, when he’d been holding Lilith, talking to her...that sense of his...own, curiosity. His own eagerness. He could feel it again as he looked down at her, watching her movements.

 “Yeah...princess...” he mused to himself, silent enough to where Harley could barely hear him.  He looked back down at his daughter.... _his_ daughter.

He didn’t know if he’d be able to uphold his word to Harley, but damn it if he wouldn’t try. A lesson had been learned in all of this, and the future held so much potential in it now. Lilith was a fresh mind, a fresh mold, one that he and his queen had created together, one that he could’ve very well missed out on because of stupid fears...fears from the past, fears that no longer mattered.

If he feared her...so would they...so would Gotham.

 


	26. Chapter 25

Harley’s scream shook the room, her body practically collapsing in Joker’s grasp. He shouted her name, but aside from her soft whimpering, she had gone completely silent. Her body was shivering, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She’d slid out of his hold, back onto the bed, breathing heavily, her pulse practically visible through the veins of her neck.

_It was done. It was over._

_It was all over._

The silence in the room was overtaken by a shrill wail, causing Joker to turn his attention from the ailing Harley to where Melissa was now cradling a shrieking, slimy-looking infant. The tiny little thing flailed in her arms, screaming her lungs out, even as she was shushed.

Something stirred in Joker. Though his mind was still concerned for Harley, he couldn’t force himself to tear his gaze away from the child...this... this was _his_ child. His daughter. This was someone created from his own flesh and blood, not by chemicals or any mental manipulations.

_This was their creation, they’d created this little creature together._

Oh, how it was such a strange, strange thing to be witnessing. For him to be hearing the loud, ear-splitting cry of this newborn, to be seeing the little thing as her aunt wrapped her in the clean towel, continuing in her attempts to soothe her.  

And that cry...that cry was loud enough to make a roof cave in.

How was he witnessing all of this, how was all of this actually happening?

Well, science could tell you how it happened, but that was a story for another day. That was not important. What was important was that he, the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, and King of Gotham...was now a father.

He didn’t know if his mind was able to process that, for it had gone fuzzy.

Melissa was looking up at the couple now, smiling from ear-to-ear despite her failure in getting the baby to quiet down.

“Congratulations, guys. She’s beautiful.”

_Was she?_

He couldn’t tell from here; but all he saw was red, wrinkly skin.

“Baby, Baby...” He jolted at Harley’s mumbling, looking down to see she was still laying down, not having moved from where she’d fallen. Her arms moved from where they’d previously been laying by her sides, outstretching, hands making grabbing motions, almost looking like claws.

“Give her to me...gimme.... I can hear her crying, Lissy, I wanna hold her. Lemme hold her...”

“Just a second, Leeny, I still have to clean her up.” Her sister chuckled, carefully laying the infant down onto the mattress. Her cries had softened a bit, but she hadn’t stopped wriggling, arms waving in the air. Melissa picked up one of the other hand towels she’d left folded on the bed and finished wiping off the last remnants of amniotic fluid and blood from her skin, which was now a flushed pink instead of the beet red it’d been prior.

“There we go...isn’t that better?” She said, gently patting the infant’s cheek with the towel. The baby gurgled in response, which prompted an impatient growl from Harley. Her hands remained outstretched still, grabbing for her daughter.

“Hang on, we’re almost done. We don’t want the cord trailing over there, do we?” Melissa sat the hand towel back into the small pile of messy towels that had accumulated over the birth. Humming, she turned, picking up a small black shoelace that she’d taken off her shoe an hour ago. She looked back up towards the new parents, towards the Joker.

“Hey Papa, you wanna take care of it?”

He blinked.

“What?”

“The cord. You wanna do the honors?”

“Aw pud, would you?” Harley gasped and grabbed his arm, tugging at it. “Please?”

Joker glanced down at her, then over at Melissa. He listened to the baby’s soft cooing for a moment.

_Would he do it?_

Did he really deserve to after being the one responsible for his own daughter’s almost-death nine months ago, after he’d spent day after day denying her and refusing to accept her? Now was not the time to be debating these questions, but he hadn’t planned on being present for this, let alone being asked to complete such a task as cutting off an umbilical cord.

“Puddin’... _pu_ -leaseeee...I wanna hold her...” Harley tugged at his arm again, whining softly. He looked back down at her again, sighed, and brushed her hand off, getting up from the bed. Taking his switchblade out, he flicked it open and padded over to the foot of the bed. Now that he was closer, he let himself observe the little thing, eyes going up and down her small, wiggly form. He didn’t know if he entirely agreed with Melissa’s statement of her “being beautiful”; her face was all wrinkled and scrunched up... but maybe that was because she was yawning.

He watched her tiny lips spread open, then shut, her features softening and eyes popping back open, revealing a pair of light, blue irises, that seemed to be staring back up at him.

Wonder...he could see wonder in those eyes, wonder and curiosity. The same look he’d seen in her mother’s eyes the minute she’d first laid eyes on him, he could see it now in their child. The same wonder, and she was barely a few minutes old.

_This was his. This thing was his._

_This was their creation._

He didn’t know how to feel.

“Here.” He snapped his head to the side, seeing Melissa had tied the shoe lace onto the cord. “Just cut right there _, carefully.”_

She’d put a lot of emphasis on that last word, “carefully”. Pfft, sure, she didn’t know how much he’d cut with this knife, how many people he’d cut with it. Stuff like this was a piece of a cake for him, he’d had plenty of practice being “careful” with blades.

_And by careful, that meant slowly dragging the blade further into someone’s cheek until they were crying._

“Er...huh, you got a light?” She nodded, reaching into her suitcase to pull out a lighter, and handed it to him. He ignited it, running the flame underneath the switchblade’s edge to cauterize it, snapping the lighter off the minute the blade began to a glow a light red. He could already feel Harley watching him, no doubt with great eagerness, as he cut the blade through the cord, severing it enough for it to fall off.

The switchblade went back into his coat, and he stepped back, watching as Melissa re-wrapped the baby back into the towel. The minute she stood up, Harley’s arms shot back up again, reaching out as her sister approached. A huge grin was on her face, despite the fact that she looked like death.

“Mine, mine!” She sounded like a greedy toddler, eagerly snatching her daughter out of Melissa’s arms. She fell back onto the pillows, pressing the baby close to her body, petting the wispy, damp peach fuzz that made up her hair.

“Baby...my baby...” Harley started cooing, continuing to pet and cuddle the tiny infant. “Hi there, hi...hi, you’re my baby, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, and I’m your Momma! Yes, I am, and I love you so much! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long...”

She kept hugging, petting, talking to the girl like she could understand her. It bewildered Joker, standing here and watching his queen act like this. He couldn’t say he liked this new mushy side all too much, and he couldn’t guarantee that he’d get used to it.

It was just so...odd.

Not just the mushy talk, but the fact that she was holding a baby. It almost looked unnatural, for Harley Quinn, the Clown Queen and merry murderess herself to be cradling and cooing at a small child like this.

“Hey...puddin’?”

She’d stopped cooing, she was talking to him now. He didn’t respond, just looked, saw her looking inquisitively at him.

“You...wanna come see her?”

_But he already had seen her, just a minute ago._

_Forget it J, she’s not going to take no for an answer. She rarely does._

So, he went back to her side, only standing next to the bed this time. Harley beamed up at him, holding the baby up for him to see, even though her arms were weak and trembling.

“Just look at her, isn’t she pretty?” she gushed, gaining no visible reaction from him. The only thing he did do was squint, silently observing the infant as she gurgled, her tiny hands pawing the air.   _Such a tiny little thing...tiny and helpless..._

 “She’s...so small...” He didn’t know why that had been the first thing to come out of his mouth, those had been thoughts he hadn’t meant to say out loud. Harley harshly laughed, lowering the baby back onto her lap.

“Really? I would’ve thought otherwise.”  She countered. “With how much effort it took, I could’a sworn I was pushin’ out a ten-pound watermelon.”

She went back to looking down at the baby, smiling widely at her.

“But you’re a tiny melon, aintcha?” she chirped, grabbing onto her wiggling arms. “You’re just a tiny little thing, how come you were givin’ Mama so much trouble? Huh?”

The only response the baby gave was a soft coo, causing her mother to laugh and kiss both her hands, rubbing them against her own cheeks. Joker continued watching in absolute amazement; no, his mind was doing a shit job of processing this.None of this felt like it was really happening.

She’d only been a mother for about six minutes and she was already a natural. It was like it had just come naturally, maybe there really was some truth about the bullshit myth talking about how having a baby always brought out the maternal instinct in a woman.

He chuckled within himself. His Harley, a mother. Him, a father.

This was quite the sight to behold. A sight that he knew many people might find hilarious.

_Many people aside from Bats, of course._

No no, that was a matter for another time. The last few hours had been hours from hell, and it was over, he could worry over shit like that another day.

Slowly, he sat on the bed, allowing a grin to place itself on his face as he kept a focus on the baby. He was impressed; in all the time he’d been looking at her, she hadn’t cried at all. The same wonder and curiosity was in her eyes, even as she looked between both strange people looking down at her. It was kind of funny, perhaps she hadn’t been expecting these strange-looking people to be her parents.

He did wonder what else could possibly be going through her mind.

By now, Melissa had left the room; he’d heard her briefly mention something about to going to clean up, but he hadn’t been paying attention. The family of three were the only ones currently in this room, and oddly enough...everything felt peaceful.

_Is this what could have been, a long, long time ago?_

More gurgling came from the baby, who still stared up at her parents with curious wonder. Her main focus seemed to be fixated on her father however, and Harley had taken notice as well as he had. She giggled, looking over at the Joker.

“She knows you.” He scoffed at this, rolling his eyes.

“Harls, please—”

“No, look! She knows you’re her papa, she just can’t stop lookin’ at ya.” Harley pressed further, looking back to the infant. Sure enough, her eyes remained focused towards her father, as if to further prove Harley’s point.

“Look at that, she loves you already. Isn’t that sweet?”

“That’s bullshit, Harls. She’s just staring at me, that doesn’t mean she loves me.” Joker pointed out, huffing as he lifted both legs onto the bed. “It doesn’t mean that she knows who I am, either.”

“No, she does.”  She disagreed, pulling the baby back in her arms, as she’d begun to cry. “She knows you, Mistah J. I didn’t spend a good amount of time tellin’ her about ya for her to _not_ know.”

The crying picked up, prompting a shush out of Harley as she gently started bouncing the newborn.

“Hey, hush now. What’s wrong? Are ya hungry?” she asked. “Is that it?”

She pushed her knees back up, allowing the baby to rest on them while she pushed her shirt up. Reaching back, she managed to unclip her bra and pressed the baby close to her chest, allowing her to nuzzle around for a few minutes until she began nursing. Harley kept one hand balanced on the back of her head, rubbing the other on her back. A good minute passed before Harley realized Joker was staring, and she looked up at him, taking in the expression on his face.

It wasn’t a smile, or a grin; he just looked...conflicted.

“What are you starin’ at?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. He pursed his lips together, shrugging.

“Dunno. I’m still trying to process it, whatever it is.” he said, scooting a bit closer to Harley. She raised at her other eyebrow at him, before also shrugging, and moved her attention back to the baby. She’d seemed to have finished eating, so Harley pulled her back, and let her shirt fall back down. The room went quiet, as she went back to cuddling the infant, cooing to her; all while Joker sat next to her and watched with his own great curiosity.

“So...” He spoke, silently, enough to gain Harley’s attention. “This is what being a parent is like?”

“Huh...I guess.” The baby had grabbed onto Harley’s finger with both hands, tugging and grunting. “Uh...how’s it makin’ you feel?”

She had to ask; their unfinished conversation in the asylum still had many questions with it, many questions that had not yet been answered. He’d seemed very eager to have her back, had mentioned something about being okay with having the baby around...but nothing he emoted now showed any of that. Harley knew as well as his henchmen, if not better, that it was either a good thing or a bad thing when the Joker went quiet; and in most cases, it was never a good thing.

“Hm...” He hummed, resting his head against the wall, hands now folded in his lap. “Don’t know yet.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely bad. But it wasn’t good either.

She nodded, slowly, and looked away from him, only to look back up at again at his question.

“How about you?”

“Oh...um...weird. Huh, yeah. It feels weird.”

She went back to rocking the baby, smiling brightly at her.

“But ya know...I’ve been waitin’ so long to hold her...and I almost never did.” she mused.  “Yeah, so maybe it does feel weird...but it also feels _incredible_.”

Incredible?

He wondered what that must feel like. It was frustrating, because he felt like he should be happy, or hell, angry right now; he wanted to feel some kind of emotion, not the blankness, or the confusion, he felt instead. Harley’s happiness was practically radiating off her, she’d been wanting this; _yearning_ for this for so long, perhaps longer than he’d ever known.

And meanwhile, he couldn’t even properly assess his own emotions.

“Err...did you...did you, uh, ever pick a name out for her?” he questioned, trying to at least _sound_ invested. Though he _was_ curious, she’d not made mention of any name of any sort for the baby in the short time that they’d been reunited, then again, they’d only been reunited since last night. It wasn’t like they’d had the time to chat what with having to avoid being shot up, arrested, and/or thrown back into Arkham by Batman or the GCPD.

Harley did seem delighted he’d asked, however. She pondered his question briefly, pressing her mouth into a tight line.

“Kinda...” She shifted on the bed, slipping down onto one of the pillows. “I mean I...nah, nah, not really...”

He had to laugh at this, turning onto his side to look down at her.

“Really? Nine months, Harls, you had nine months to decide.” She scowled as he cackled. “And you say I take too long, I truly think you’re mistaken.”

“If I am, it’s your fault.” Harley deflected. “You’re the one who kept tellin’ me a name had to mean somethin’—you know, back in Arkham? Our first session?”

“How could I forget?” He smiled at the memory, recalling the look on her face when she’d stepped into the room. How she’d asked so many questions, trying to get a “real” name out of him, asking him how it related to what he did. That had only been the first of many times he’d imparted his own wisdom to her.

“Yeah, I started talkin’ to you about names and stuff like that.” She paused, long enough to wince, and looked back over at him. “I remember, puddin’, I remember how you said a name is what makes a person, how it has to be something people would fear. I remembered all of that, so I wanted to find a name like that for the baby.”

“And did you?”

 “I... I don’t know, I mean there was one name that stood out to me...” She winced again, inhaling sharply. “I dunno...and geez pud, you’ve always been better at names than me, you’re the one who got Harley Quinn outta Harleen Quinzel, y’know.”

“Well, I do consider myself an expert in the field.” Joker chuckled, turning back onto his back in order to sit up. “But give yourself some credit where it’s due, you do a fantastic job with animal names.”

“Oh, great...”

“No, but really;” He swung his legs off the bed, standing up. “Tell me; what’s the name? The one that was standing out to you, I’m curious.”

“Um...Lilith.” Harley said, shifting once again. “It means ‘of the night’. The website I found it on said it was the name of some demonic goddess in Jewish mythology, one I apparently missed out on hearing as a kid.”  

Joker said nothing to this straight away, only leaning against the wall. He looked upwards, his mouth was moving despite no words coming out. He seemed to be in contemplation of the name...that was good, that was definitely good, wasn’t it? It had to be, he’d cared enough to break her out, had cared enough to stay with her through the whole delivery. Surely, he cared enough to help her decide on a name.

He continued as Harley watched on. She hoped he’d decide soon, she was starting to feel sick again.

The bathroom door opened, and Melissa walked out, heading back to her suitcase to fiddle around with something. By this time, Joker had stopped his murmuring and was looking down again, back at Harley and the baby.

“...I like it.” He decided, finally. “I think...I think it’ll do just fine.”

Harley lit up, looking back down at the cooing baby in her arms.

“You hear that, sweetie? Daddy liked the name Momma picked out for ya!” she grinned, enough to earn attention from Melissa, who looked on at the small family with a smile. “Looks like you got a name now, huh? How do you like it?”

Joker had turned his back, rolling his eyes at hearing Harley babble onto their daughter. It still amazed him how she could just talk to her like she understood everything she was saying...then again... that wasn’t really a shock considering how she talked to animals. He should’ve expected it.

It was only when she stopped talking, abruptly, was when he started to become concerned. Which, was now.

He turned back around at the same time baby Lilith fell from her mother’s embrace, hitting the mattress with a soft cry. His eyes widened, blood going cold, at the sight of Harley’s body violently convulsing on the bed, her breath in and out at an alarmingly-fast pace.

“Harley!” It didn’t take him any time at all to practically jump onto the bed, ready to completely pull her up, shake her out of her stupor. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good. She’d completely paled over, her skin cold, and pupils huge.

“Don’t move her!”  His arms recoiled back at the sound of Melissa snapping at him, and he looked to see her propping the suitcase up underneath Harley’s feet. She’d jumped into action quick, running over next to him to scoop the crying baby up from where she’d fallen, hastily shoving her into her father’s surprised arms before returning to attend to her sister. Joker could only watch in a furious worry, stumbling back, almost entirely into the wall, while Lilith cried and squirmed in his hold.

_What was happening? Everything was so fine just a minute ago, this wasn’t supposed to happen! Not again!_

Every voice screamed at him, clouded any coherent train thought, the longer he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Melissa was doing a lot of things, things he couldn’t pay enough attention to. She was saying some things to Harley, covering her with the blanket, readjusting the pillows underneath her head. She rushed back to the foot of the bed, allowing Joker enough time to see that Harley had stopped convulsing, her body having gone disturbingly still. Her eyes almost looked sealed shut, lips looking slightly parted. Her breath did sound like it was slowing down, and her chest was slowly but surely rising up and down.

So, she was alive...thank fuck for that. What had just happened?

Realizing Lilith was slipping from his grasp, Joker shifted her back up against the crook of his right arm and walked over to Melissa, who was pre-occupied with checking under the sheet still covering Harley’s legs.

“ _What_ is going on?” he demanded, struggling to keep the wiggling baby from slipping even further. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s lost too much blood, it sent her body into shock.” Melissa moved one hand away from the sheets to retrieve another towel from her suitcase, wadding it up into a ball. “I’ve seen it happen far too often.”

Her face creased as she pressed the towel into place, biting down on her lower lip.

“This is why I was hoping she wouldn’t tear, she’s already lost too much blood as is...hell, she’s still bleeding now...” she said. “I’m gonna try my best to stop the bleeding—”

“No, you aren’t going to _try,_ you’re going to stop it.” He snapped, causing Melissa to silence, having to raise his tone as the baby hadn’t yet calmed down from her crying fit.  “Remember why I’ve kept you around, Mel. You’re of no use to me if you don’t stop this.”

His tone had transitioned to a low growl, signifying that he was dead serious.  Swallowing hard, Melissa nodded grimly, looking away.

“I... if I had a, um, curette, I could perform a D&C...” she spoke slowly, keeping her hands secured beneath the sheet. “It could temporarily stop the bleeding, but there’s no guarantee...”

“We’ve got a whole stash of medical supplies in the basement of this place, getting you one of those shouldn’t be a problem.” Joker cut her off, glancing down at Lilith. He grit down on his grill, harshly shushing her.  She hadn’t stopped crying since her mother had gone unconscious, and he wasn’t having much luck in getting her to be quiet.

_She knows I’m her father, huh? Bullshit._

She wanted to be back with her mother, she didn’t want this strange man holding her. These were the same arms, the same hands, that had wielded the cane that had almost resulted in her death, so he couldn’t really blame her for wanting out of them.

“If it’s not a problem, then great, because it’s really our only other option at this rate.” Melissa temporarily moved one blood-covered hand out, picking up another towel. “Oh, and you might want to try rocking her.”

He was about to ask what she meant until he realized she was talking about the baby. Grumbling, he attempted to do as she said, which to his surprise, seemed to quell the infant. She went quiet, aside from tiny sniffles.

So far, this parenting thing wasn’t proving to be any fun. Not yet, anyways.

“I’ll uh...I’ll go tell Frost to get the stuff...you need...” He trailed off, stepping back. Now that Lilith had quieted down, he attempted to lay her back down on the bed next to Harley, only to receive a loud cry, which caused him to pull her back up, staring down in confusion at her.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to get away with that.” Melissa cracked a smile and shook her head, turning her focus back to Harley. “I can’t be keeping an eye on her anyways, you’re going to need to keep her with you for at least a couple of hours.”

_Protest._

He almost did, wanted to, but Melissa had a point. She was already up to her wrists in blood, and as soon as she had that curette in her possession, she’d be up to her elbows. There was no way she’d be able to tend to both Harley and Lilith at the same time.

_Protest._

His mind told him to, but he ignored it. Re-securing Lilith back into his hold, he moved to leave the room, not before allowing himself one more glance at Harley. She was still unconscious, laying on the bed and looking as pale as a ghost. Barely, just barely, he could hear her breathing...so quick, so frighteningly quick.

Melissa better hope nothing went wrong during that procedure, else she’d be finding herself at the short end of a gun’s barrel.

\--

The sun brightly shone in the living room, casting rays across it as Joker stepped out from the bedroom. He shut the door with his free arm, back turned still, Lilith cooing in his arms. He stayed there for a moment, hand pressed against the wood.

_...she would be okay. She was Harley Quinn, she’d come back from worse. She was going to be okay. For her to be defeated like this would just be...ridiculous._

She would not be defeated. She’d come back from this, perkier and crazier than ever.

“J?” He barely turned at hearing Frost’s voice, having forgotten the other man had been in the room, though he was shocked he was still here, especially with having to listen to all the lovely sounds travelling through the walls.

“...yeah?”

“Is... Ms. Quinn doing alright?” Ah, good old concern. And it was genuine too, any prior right-hand man he’d had been excellent at faking it, just to stay on his good side. This was why he’d kept Frost around for so long.

It did take Joker a minute to respond, Frost even having to repeat himself a second time. Finally, he looked up, back at him.

“She’s...going to be fine...” _Lying to yourself again, J? God, you’re pathetic._ “Look uh, Johnny, you remember where we keep the medical supplies in this place, right?”

“Yeah, the basement, right?”

“Right. Great, because the doc needs some.” He fully turned around, moving to a chair, which he seated himself in. “A curette, probably some medication. Go get those for her.”

“Sure thing.” Frost nodded and started to leave. He stopped upon opening the door and looked back. “Oh...yeah, boss? Congrats.”

It was a quick and curt congratulations, because he had already left before Joker had a chance to say anything to him. He looked over just in time to see the door shutting, and closed his eyes, exhaling heavily.

_This...this was all so strange...this wasn’t supposed to happen._

_This wasn’t ever supposed to happen._

_None of this...he’d anticipated none of this when he’d gone to rescue her.  He’d not anticipated her giving birth, and he’d certainly not anticipated her now bleeding out._

Fuck, sometimes he wished his brain was able to process things better and not just...shut itself off like this. He couldn’t think straight now, he’d thought it’d be better after having Harley back, but it’d just gotten worse. The imagery of her tied up and screaming was out of his head, but now all he could see was her laying there in bed, resembling nothing less than a corpse.

_Why...why did it have to be so...painful to care?_

If he didn’t know any better, he’d close himself off again, but he knew he couldn’t. It was too late for that now.

Tiny noises led him into opening his eyes back, shooting them down to Lilith, who was grunting and squirming against his stomach. He glared, feeling a small rage begin to burn through his heart. Gradually, he slipped the baby from his arm, tightly gathering her into both his hands, lifting her up until she was face to face with him. She continued squirming, her grunts increasing as her father’s grip increased. His eyes glazed over in fury the more he watched her squirm, the more he listened to the noises she was making.

“You...” he growled, arms shaking. “This is all your fault...”

_It was. It was all her fault; her mother was heavily bleeding out because of her, possibly dying because of her. It was her fault._

His whole face contorted in anger, fingers pressing hard against the baby’s body. She kept squirming, kept whimpering.

_Wasn’t supposed to happen. Didn’t want this. Didn’t want you. Your fault, your fault, your fault--_

He was gripping tight enough, that Lilith’s small noises had developed into a loud squall.  This brought him out of his rage, feeling a harsh pang in his chest. Her squalls kept on, even as he lowered her, his grip loosening, laying her down on his knees. His hands continued to shake, as he cautiously lifted them, staring in a dumbfounded manner.

_No..._

_No._

He wasn’t going to do this. He couldn’t.

Maybe it was Lilith’s fault, but he knew he held the blame too. Lilith only existed because of him, after all.

“Hey...” He picked her back up, laying her against his chest. “Hey, stop that. Don’t do that.”

Her tiny body was quivering as the loud squalls quieted down into whimpers, he could feel it. God, she really was so tiny...it would have been so easy to hurt her. That was...not a comforting fact. If he had in fact, done something, and Harley got better...she’d skin him alive, and not just metaphorically.

With heavy uncertainty, he pressed his hand on her back, slowly rubbing it.  He’d seen people do this on television shows, not that he watched these types of shows, but he’d caught glimpses of them, due to sometimes coming home at 2 AM to find Harley awake and seated in the living room, watching some bad Lifetime channel movie while she emptied out a whole carton of chocolate pudding. That was a routine he fully expected to continue once they got back home.

Especially now with a baby around, things were bound to change, but at least they weren’t strangers to staying up late.

The whimpers had stopped, meaning that he was doing _something_ right. He heard the door opening and slamming shut, heard Frost’s footsteps go by as he ran across to the bedroom, presumably with the needed supplies in hand. He didn’t bother looking up or acknowledging this, only continued rubbing Lilith’s back, and once she’d gone completely quiet, lay her back down in his lap.

Those eyes...wide and curious...he couldn’t get over how curious they looked. You couldn’t even tell she’d been crying a minute ago, it was almost scary how calm she was now. It looked as if she were trying to figure Joker out...like why had he been ready to crush her one minute, but had started to soothe her the next?

So young, and already so eager.

It made him smile.

“Don’t think too much on it, kid.” He couldn’t believe he was talking to her, but she seemed to be paying attention, so he continued.  “Even I don’t know how things work up there most of the time... shit, I don’t think your mother does either. I’ll give her points for trying, as long ago as that was...”

Lilith cooed, her little head wobbling to the side. Joker was quick to set it back up, keeping one hand propped underneath it.

“No, no, I’m sure she told you enough about that.” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll bet she’s told you a lot, huh? She probably did, she loves talking. Sometimes, I can’t get her to shut up.”

Another coo from Lilith, who by now had taken noticed of her father’s thumb and seized it, pulling it into her mouth. He almost jerked it back, alarmed, but instead did nothing, observing the little girl as she continued to gum it to her best extent, but her eyes had not left him. They remained looking up at him, even as she was sucking at his thumb.

This made his smile even bigger.

_Maybe Harley hadn’t been bullshitting him. Maybe she really did know who he was._

He pulled his thumb loose, lifting her up, this time, until their foreheads touched, and he was grinning.

“You know, what Lily?” he purred, the baby grunting. “I think you’re going to be fun, after all...”

* * *

 

The next few days passed by, even if it felt like time wasn’t moving by at all.

Harley been out of commission, for the most part. She’d woken up a few times, the first time being a whole day after she’d first passed out, but she’d only stayed up long enough to feed Lilith, and herself, before going back to sleep. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be losing anymore blood, as the D&C procedure had seemed to have taken care of most of the heavy bleeding, but regardless of this, she remained bedbound, primarily by Melissa’s orders, and especially by Joker’s orders.

When she was asleep, the task of tending to the baby had fallen to Melissa. She’d handled giving her a bath, changing her diaper, putting her to sleep. She’d gone out the morning after she was born and had come back with all the supplies needed to take care of Lilith, including formula in the event that Harley might be asleep during her meal times, and a few baby onesies so she wouldn’t have to keep wearing the same dirty towel she’d been wrapped in for the first few hours of her life.

Suffice it to say that it’d been an interesting few days, having to adjust to having a baby around. By now, Joker had hoped they’d be back in Gotham City, at the penthouse, but it was evident they weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon, nor did he want to. Not until Harley was strong enough to get out of bed, even if she kept insisting she was whenever she was awake, he knew she wasn’t. Not with how much she kept sleeping, it would be at least a whole week before they’d be back, maybe two.

He didn’t want her setting a foot outside of that room until she didn’t look like death anymore.

In the meantime, he’d turned his attention towards other things. His arrested henchmen had managed to free themselves, with the help of some officers who just so happened to be on Joker’s payroll. When they’d arrived at the hotel, he’d assigned them to head back into the city, to Harley’s apartment above the Blue Bell Diner, in order to retrieve her things there.

Of course, by her things, he meant the baby’s thing, which mainly included her crib, toys, and clothes, some of the décor as well. He’d had these things taken to the penthouse, where the rest of the guys and some of the girls from the club were converting one of the spare rooms into a nursery. Joker hadn’t told Harley about this, she did love surprises and after all the crap she’d been through lately, she deserved a surprise that wouldn’t result in blood.

Speaking of the guys and girls, some of them had dropped by in the few days that had passed, dropping off their congratulations and their gifts. The guys were quick about it and usually left after a couple of minutes, in order to get back to work, but the girls had stayed longer, oohing and awing over Lilith, even helping out with her.

 In fact, she’d been getting so much attention from everyone, that Joker had found himself barely interacting with her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but ever since their little interaction before, he’d had a lot to think about, a lot to ponder. By now, it was cemented that they were keeping the baby, that he was okay with it, and he’d accepted it. But there was so much more on his mind than that factor, and so much that needed to be talked about.

Unfortunately, Harley was never awake long enough for such a conversation to take place.

So, he’d spent a lot of time outside the bedroom, mulling over his thoughts, pacing, or distracting himself with some kind of task, any old task.

It was actually what he was doing right now, as it was 5:30 in the evening, clouds gathered in the sky and the room dark. Aside from the few men surrounding the outside of the place to keep an eye on things, the only other people in the building were Melissa, Harley, the Joker, and Lilith. Most of the guys were back in the city, and Melissa was in the bedroom tending to Lilith while Harley was in the shower. It was the first time she’d really been up since giving birth, and she’d had to fight Melissa on letting her out of bed, stating she was sick of smelling like “blood and shit”.

So, it was pretty much quiet, though you could faintly hear the running water through the thin walls.

As for the Joker, he was currently seated on the sofa, going over a chart of the club’s assets. Things had really fallen behind the long nine months he’d been mentally absent, and things were not looking too hot financially. He had some clients he’d have to be paying a visit to soon if he wanted this chart to looking any better, a whole list of said-client next to him, as he tried to map out who owed him what.

Melissa stepped out of the bedroom door, sighing tiredly as she sat a half-empty baby bottle down on the coffee table, next to where Joker’s feet were propped. He looked up briefly, before looking back down at the name list, marking a name off on it.

“Sounded awful quiet in there...” he remarked, as Melissa retrieved her coat from where it was hanging on a chair. She shrugged it on, chuckling softly.

“Hah, well, that might have something to do with Lily.”  she said, scooping her purse up as well.  “She wasn’t even halfway done with her bottle before she started nodding off. Poor kid couldn’t even keep her eyes open.”

“Hm.” Joker circled off another name, absent-mindedly rocking his feet. “She’s asleep then?”

“Yup, since about...oh, I think five minutes ago.”  She fumbled through her purse, pulling her keys out. “I figured since she is, I’d take the chance to slip out and bring back some supper. How’s Chinese sound?”

“Sure. Sounds fantastic...” He sat his pen aside, squinting at the chart. Keys in hand, Melissa zipped her purse up and headed towards the door.

“I’ll be back in a few, if Lily wakes up, just give her the rest of her bottle. She still might be hungry.” She called, stepping out. Almost as instantly as the door shut, Joker was interrupted from his work by the very sound that had woken him up the last couple of nights. He sighed, setting both the chart and his pen back onto the couch, and pushed himself off the couch.

Bottle in hand, he went to the bedroom, where Harley’s remained empty, and her voice could be heard coming from the bathroom, singing some off-tune version of “Lollipop” as the shower water was shut off. Lilith lay alone, and presumably-hungry on the bed, crying and kicking. He approached, shushing her as he scooped her up.

“Hey hey, don’t do that...” he scolded, lightly bouncing her. He shoved the bottle towards her mouth, and she scrunched her face up, turning her head away. Joker fought a couple of more times to get her to eat, until he gave up and tossed the bottle onto the bed, propping the infant up against his shoulder. Her crying went on, soft, not loud, and he continued bouncing her, patting her back.

He had to admit, it did feel quite foreign to be doing such a thing as this...such a normal thing, holding and soothing a baby. The hands that had not only threatened to end her life, but had ended so many other lives, were holding her with such care and such gentleness, that he wasn’t even sure if they were his anymore.

This was just _hilarious,_ he had enemies who would no doubt be doubling over in laughter at a sight like this.

The bathroom light flicked off as the door opened. Harley was humming as she exited, drying off the ends of her hair before crumpling up the towel and chucking it onto a chair. After having been dressed in the same t-shirt for days, one that was covered in dried blood and piss stains, it was a relief to have changed into a nicer, cleaner pair of pajamas; especially one that was her own pair. It was one of the things Joker had had retrieved from their penthouse for her while she was out of it, alongside some of her other clothing. Not the ugly stuff Ivy had bought for her, no, her actual clothing.

And she couldn’t have been happier.

She’d lit up like a Christmas tree when she’d dug into the box and picked up one of her favorite pairs of pajamas; a light pink top and bottom, with kitty cats printed all over them. This was the pair she was wearing now as she turned to look at herself in the dusty old mirror, continuing to hum, and attempted to pin her wet hair up into space buns, rather sloppy space buns at that.

She overheard small grunts, then noticed the sight of Lilith in the mirror, cradled in her father’s arms. Joker’s back was turned, and he hadn’t quite noticed Harley yet; in fact, all his attention seemed to be on Lilith.

It made her heart bubble up with joy, a smile spreading over her features.

Stiffly walking back over (stiffly, only because she was still recovering), she plopped down on the bed next to J, wrapping her arms around him all while sighing happily, resting her head against his back. She felt his body jolt, startled, but he didn’t say anything just yet.

Harley propped her chin on his shoulder, peering down at baby Lily. Aside from her occasional late-night cries, she’d been a very well-behaved baby. At least, from what Melissa had said, but Harley could see it now. She looked so calm, and not at all uncomfortable, being held by Joker.

“Look at her, puddin’...” she chirped softly, moving one hand over to tweak the girl’s cheek. “Look at how comfortable she is with ya, she’s so happy!”

Joker pulled Lilith back from his shoulder, looking over her features.

“That doesn’t look happy to me.” he said flatly, laying her back down.

“But she’s calm!” Harley persisted, scooting over next to him with her hands still holding onto him. “Look at how calm she is, shouldn’t that say _something_ to you?”

She didn’t get a reply to this, and she felt him slip out of her grasp, looking to see he was getting up from the bed. She bit her lip, looking back to Lily.

_He doesn’t want her, Harley._

_Shut up._

The one good thing about being out cold had been Harleen’s lack of nagging, that wasn’t to say she’d had her fair share of bothering Harley every now and then. It hadn’t been as often since she was back with Joker, thank goodness for that. But that didn’t change anything about what she was being naggy about, what she was prattling on about.

It was always about Lily.

Harley kept trying to convince herself, convince Harleen, that everything was all well and good now, and that they’d be getting to go home together as a whole family. But...her mind kept going back to the conversation they’d had Arkham. He’d said he’d tell her everything, why he’d waited so long to take her back...there was a good chance her mind wouldn’t be at ease until he told her.

She just had to know.

And he seemed to be reading her thoughts, because he was clearing his throat, and coming back over to the bed, after having paced around for a couple of minutes. She looked up, over at him, as he pulled both hands behind his back.

“Harls...I think, since you’re awake...” he started. “I think it’s time we talked...you wanna talk?” 

 Harley picked up Lilith and the bottle, which she seemed to be receiving better this time. She was silent, only nodding, which prompted him into continuing.

“Those...those nine months, before now...looking back, I realize that I may have overreacted...” He started his pacing up again. “In fact, I may have overreacted...just a bit too much.”

“I think we’ve had this conversation already, pud...”

“We have, yes. You’re not wrong.”  He stopped walking, arms unfolding. “But you see, when we had that conversation, I hadn’t had quite enough time to truly think about this whole situation. Since then, I’ve had time...oh so much time, and so much was revealed to me...”

“Revealed? What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Harley squinted in confusion at him as he sat back down, shifting Lilith up as her fussing indicated she’d finished with the bottle since the start of her parent’s conversation.

“I... can’t say. Fuck, at this point I’m not even sure if half of what I saw was real or not...” Joker combed his fingers through his hair, huffing. “But—yeah, basically, I’m pretty sure I ended up getting back a few memories while you were gone. Memories that made me realize why I was so against this whole parenting thing.”

This revelation made Harley’s eyes go wide, but he held up his hands before she could speak, causing her mouth to snap shut and fall into a whine.

“Wait, wait. No, like I said, I don’t even know how many of those were real.” he said. “But...it made me realize some things about myself, Harls. It made me realize that I was lying to myself, the whole damn time. You know, when it came to a kid not fitting in with our lifestyle?”

Voice trailing, he shut his eyes, contemplating what to say next. _No, no—don’t seize up now. Don’t seize up._

“I figured...” He hummed, his eyes popping back open. “I figured that...that it was a bullshit excuse. Bats has plenty of brats of his own running around, why couldn’t I have the same thing? Why couldn’t I let myself be amused by the thought of...my own offspring? Then...those dreams started happening.”

Even Lilith wasn’t making much noises anymore, as if she too, was as closely listening to her father’s words as Harley was. She had to say she was intrigued; Joker had never been this open before, not about dreams, not about things like memories. He’d always brushed her off whenever she’d asked...during the therapy sessions, during their times driving around the city, in bed.

 _“I don’t have a past,”_ he’d say. _“Simply put, Harley—if I had one, I’d want it to be multiple choice.”_

But he wasn’t saying that now, was he?

“What...what were in the dreams, Mistah J?”

“Hard to say...it’s all foggy now...” His face scrunched up at remembering, and he leaned back on the bed, palms resting on the mattress. “I... vaguely remember a man and woman, yelling at each other...I remember the man, kicking me in the ribs...I remember stabbing the woman...”

This was starting to sound familiar. He’d told her a variation of this story a long time ago in one of their sessions. But, she chose not to interrupt him. She knew not to interrupt him when he was like this, voicing a train of thoughts out loud. One off-word could scramble it all up.

“The thing is though, Harls, all these dreams...memories, whatever...” He went on, Harley listening on intently. “They all had something in common...it was always about parents. And I think, Harley, that it was these things in my dreams that held my reasons for not accepting Lilith.”

“...which are?” Lilith was squirming, having apparently lost interest in the conversation by now and was more concerned with trying to get a burp out, so Harley lifted her up and started patting her back, keeping her eyes locked on Joker. This conversation was going somewhere, her attention wasn’t about to go anywhere else.

But he didn’t seem like he wanted to continue it. He didn’t seem like he wanted to state the reasons he was talking about, and grew very quiet, turning away from her.

_What was it...what was it that he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say?_

She didn’t know, but she wanted to know. Prodding wouldn’t help, when it came to stuff like this...it was better to just let it be stated naturally. Especially with him, prodding him had never ended very well in the past.

“...I was...” Finally, he spoke, right at the same time Lilith let out a tiny belch, and Harley lowered back into her lap. “I was...scared, Harley. I was terrified. In those memories...nothing associated with the thought of being parent was good...and I think, when it comes down to it...”

_Him...Joker...admitting he was scared?_

This was not the answer she’d expected to hear.

“You...scared?” she had to ask, it even sounded weird as she asked.

“I know. It’s hilarious isn’t it?” He said over a chuckle, picking at the hem of the bedsheets. “I’m surprised you aren’t rolling over in laughter at this...like c’mon, Harls, it’s sad. Out of all the things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen...the one thing that terrifies me, is her...”

He gestured towards Lilith, who’d turned her attention to staring at the cats on her mother’s pajamas.

“You know the things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen...” Cracking his neck, he grunted, shifting up a little bit more on the bed. “The things I’ve had done to me...but this? This little...human...no, she is the thing that scares me the most.”

His gaze was locked onto her now; her being Lilith, and Harley could see what he meant. She could somewhat see the tiny bit of fear flashing over his eyes, a fear she’d seen a long, long time ago, two years to be exact...their time on the road, when she’d pulled the gun on him.

When she’d uttered those words, daring him to admit that her heart scared him...this was perhaps, the first time, he’d ever came close to acknowledging such feelings. Although, it bewildered her to hear such humbling things come from his mouth, this was not what she’d expected, not at all. At the same time, it did make her happy to hear those words...to hear a legit reason, and no excuses this time.

And it wasn’t like that half-assed response he’d given her back in the alley, this one seemed to possess more earnest.

 “I’m glad to hear you say that...” she concurred, scooting back up against the bed’s headboard. Tucking Lilith close, Harley started to softly rock her, feeling somewhat solemn. “If it makes you feel any better, she scares me a little bit too.”

“No, she doesn’t. Don’t say things just to make me feel like less of an asshole, Harley.” She jolted at the loud abruptness of his voice, noting that his fists were clenching. “You’ve been all over her before she was even born, you were ready to kill me the very second I threatened to harm her.”

He snapped her head back at her, looking at her with a very serious, very dark expression.

“You pledged your loyalty...to me...”

“Puddin’...”

“Stop.” He warned, standing up slowly. And she did. She snapped her mouth shut, only chewing on her lower lip. The same expression remained, as he moved to stand next to her, if only growing darker with each step. “You pledged your loyalty to _me,_ and _me_ only...so I want to make one thing clear with you. And I wanna make it _crystal_ clear, so listen to what I say now...”

Harley’s eyes darted to his switchblade, which he was now holding in his hand. The blade was out, and before she could even make a sound, felt it pressed on her cheek. It felt dangerously close to drawing blood, and he lightly dragged it across her pale flesh, stopping at her lips. They closed, the tip of the blade resting on them.

“I will accept this child, I will make an... ah... an _attempt_ , to parent her, to my best extent...despite my apparent fear of her.” He pressed the blade further, Harley’s breath hitching. It did not hitch out of fear, however; instead out of eagerness. Lilith didn’t seem to share in her excitement, having drifted off to sleep within a couple of minutes of being rocked.

“But, I will only do this...if I know your loyalty will remain to me, and only me.” He directed, the darkness, the utter crispness of his tone, was enough to make Harley shiver. There was a calmness to it, but also strong forcefulness, all at the very same time. “That doesn’t mean...that you can’t, uh, have _some_ loyalty for her. That doesn’t mean you can’t love her, because I know there’s no stopping you there...all I ask...”

He stopped, long enough to move his eyes up to hers. They were focused, intense...locking right onto his. The blade was practically pricking at the skin on Harley’s lip, still not enough to draw blood, but getting close enough to do so.

“All I ask, Harley, is that you remember. Remember what you vowed.” He dragged the blade down a bit, her lips parting. It split the center of her lower lip, causing a tiny trickle of blood to sprout out. “Simply...give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Quick as could be, he swiped the blade back, causing Harley’s eyes to snap shut, a quiet moan escaping from between her now-bleeding lips. Joker covered her mouth with one hand, kneeling close to her face, and grabbed the back of her head with his other hand, pressing their foreheads together.

“You know how this goes...surrender...desire...you know the whole deal by now.” He whispered, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “Tell me what you want, Harley Quinn. Do you want our child?”

He slid his hand down, allowing her to speak. First, she released the breath that had been building up in her throat, body shuddering.  

“More than anything, Mistah J.”

“What about me? What do you want from me?”

“To accept our baby and raise her with me.” She was brightening, the corners of her mouth stretching into a slightly bloody smile.  “It’s all I’ve ever wanted these whole nine months, all I ever wanted from you.”

“Then you know what to say, honey...” His finger was on her lips, tracing over the blood, over the curves of her smile. “Remember...remember your vow and say the magic word. Say it...”

“...Please.”

His finger stopped it’s travelling, settling on her lower lip, dragging itself down to her chin. He returned her smile as more fingers curled around her chin, and their lips met, engaging in a sensual, soft...and bloody, kiss. When they parted, their shared gaze went down to their daughter, who whimpered in her sleep, head turning to rest on the crook of her mother’s elbow.

“Our little princess...” Harley murmured, lifting the baby long enough to plant a kiss on her, which left a red imprint on the infant’s cheek. “Our beautiful, perfect little princess...oh puddin’, I love her so much.”

His arm wrapped itself around Harley, pulling her to him as he seated himself on the edge of the bed. He still couldn’t say if he was feeling the same joy she was right now, but he was starting to feel something. The same-something he’d felt those few days ago, when he’d been holding Lilith, talking to her...that sense of his...own, curiosity. His own eagerness. He could feel it again as he looked down at her, watching her movements.

 “Yeah...princess...” he mused to himself, silent enough to where Harley could barely hear him.  He looked back down at his daughter.... _his_ daughter.

He didn’t know if he’d be able to uphold his word to Harley, but damn it if he wouldn’t try. A lesson had been learned in all of this, and the future held so much potential in it now. Lilith was a fresh mind, a fresh mold, one that he and his queen had created together, one that he could’ve very well missed out on because of stupid fears...fears from the past, fears that no longer mattered.

If he feared her...so would they...so would Gotham.

 


End file.
